The Case of the Pub Owner
by gromit41187
Summary: Murder, Mayhem, and a teensy bit of Mycroft. Normal people go to pubs to meet others, hang with their mates, or drown their sorrows in a pint. Sherlock didn't have a clue what he was walking into..
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Well here goes. First time I've actually published one of my fanfics instead of letting it sit and fester on my computer hidden from public view. Just some notes I guess before you embark on the fic. This story is told from the point of the main character, Charlie (Charlotte) and takes place a few months after Reichenbach. I did my best to try and keep the original characters as close to their personalities as possible. Hope you enjoy!

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"You do know it's perfectly acceptable in this day and age to pick up anyone you want instead of being all stalkerish from across the room."

"Excuse me?" the deep baritone voice replied clearly thrown off guard as I sat down across from its tall, lanky, curly dark haired owner.

"That man," I nodded in the direction of a short blonde man who was chatting up the bartender. "You've been watching him the entire time you've been here. Or at least since he's been here because I'm pretty sure you slipped in after him." Calculating crystal blue-gray eyes searched mine carefully as I waited for an answer. We sat staring at each other for a few minutes. I noticed his eyes kept flicking quickly back to check out what the blonde man was up to. "Even now, you're still watching him."

"Why do you care that I'm here, let alone what I'm doing?" he asked, turning his full attention on me. "Ah, unless it's your business to know which then either makes you the hostess or a waitress."

"Close," I smiled leaning back in my seat. He raised an eyebrow at me. "Neither. Though I am curious how you were able to get in here unnoticed and seated at this particular booth."

"Manager?"

"Closer," I chuckled. He seemed to be growing frustrated at this point. "Owner, one of them. This is our booth so we can watching everything from the shadows without our employees getting too upset about it. Which leads me to my next question, why are you sitting in it?"

"You already know the answer because you've said it," he replied smirking at me.

"Ok. Brings me to the original one, why not go talk to him already?"

"Because he thinks I'm dead," he replied with another smirk. I caught the sadness and loneliness that flashed quickly, very quickly behind his cool, calm, facade. I looked over at Mary behind the bar and held up two fingers. She nodded her head and grabbed two glasses. I turned my attention back to my guest.

"Who is he and why does he think your dead?"

"A friend and because the whole world thinks I'm dead," he said giving me another smile that didn't reach his eyes. Just then Mary placed two short glasses at the table and walked away. "What's this?"

"Not often I get to drink with a dead man. Besides, you look like you need something and a good gin is always a good something."

"Oh. Thanks," he replied taking the glass after I slid it to him and lifting it to his lips. "Private stock I take it?"

"It pays to be the owner of a pub," I winked. The corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. "Charlie, by the way."

He seemed to debate for a moment, watching me with those seemingly knowing eyes of his. Finally deciding it seemed, he reached a hand across the table, "Sherlock."

"Ahh," I said shaking his hand briefly, "That would explain why the world thinks you're dead."

"It seems it would."

"So not dead?"

"Apparently."

"I'd ask how you managed that, but I liked to make it my business not to know too many details."

"Appreciate it."

"So the blonde, that would be Dr. Watson I presume?"

"You presume correct."

"The puzzle pieces fall into place," I sighed. "May I ask why the whole dead but not dead thing?"

"I suppose." I watched him sit there for a moment before he realized I was waiting for an answer. "Got too big and noticeable."

"And the only way to get out of the lime-light was to die? A little counter-productive isn't it?"

"I thought you didn't like to know too much?" he smirked.

"Depends on the subject. If it's boring, then no. But you I know to be a fascinating sort."

"Do you?" I nodded. "How so?"

"Intuition." I motioned for Mary who walked over.

"Yes Charlie?"

"The blonde on the end there, no charge the rest of the night." She gave me a confused look. "Just do it and don't mention it to my sister. Camille hates it when I don't charge." She nodded her head and walked back to the bar.

"Your sister's the other owner?" I nodded my head. "And the more profit concerned."

"You could say that. It's not that I don't care, but for people like you and your friend, I make an exception. Especially when I have someone as entertainment."

"Is that what I am, entertainment?"

"Not at all," I said smiling at him. He gave me a small smile again. "Hungry?" He raised an eyebrow at me. "Since we're sitting here, might as well eat something. You can keep an eye on your friend. Plus being dead and all, I'm sure your starving."

"Oh alright," he replied. "Something small would suffice."

I nodded my head and got up to walk over to Mary at the bar. She was chatting up the doctor so I walked around to punch in a food order for me and my new friend if you could call him that. I walked over to Mary who was now in full flirt mode.

"Mary, I put in a food order if you could keep an eye open for it."

"Of course Charlie," Mary smiled.

"Who's your new friend?"

"John Watson," he answered for her holding out a hand for me to shake.

"This is my boss, Charlie Brennan," Mary said as I shook his hand.

"Pleasure," I said.

"Brennan…as in pub owner?"

"Very good," I grinned. "Family pub passed on to me and my sister. Hope everything is to your liking?"

"Yes, thanks," he replied.

"Good to hear. Enjoy your evening." I turned to Mary, "Don't forget my food. Another round of gin too if you please."

"I'll bring it with the food."

"Thanks. Good evening," I said looking back at the doctor. He held up his glass in acknowledgement as I sauntered back over to my table in the dark corner of the bar. I slid into my seat, feeling my new friend watching me. "Food'll be up in a bit."

"You didn't say anything to him…"

I shook my head, "Not my business too. You can tell he's hurting though. What's it been, 3 months?"

"Something like that."

"Where have you been staying?" I asked leaning forward onto the table.

"Up until recently, a friend's couch. The stress of lying to everyone started getting to her. She's on holiday to see her family and get away for a while," he explained taking another drink from his glass. "So why exactly are you being nice to me? I'm not paying or at least you're not planning to take my money and you're giving John free drinks. Why?"

"You don't have any ideas in that funny head of yours?" I giggled.

"Several. But I was always constantly told that opinion was never really warranted."

"I told you Mr. Holmes, entertainment."

"But why? Surely you have better things to be doing? You are the owner of a pub."

"Half owner," I rolled my eyes at him.

"Something your sister doesn't let you forget." I leaned back again and watched him carefully as he watched me. I could see him trying to read me, gage my reactions, try to see what I was thinking. "You've had an argument recently. You were close with her, but not at the moment. Something, or someone, has driven a rift between the two of you, probably a boyfriend or husband. Planted some kind of thought into her head which then caused you to fight. You're not happy with her which is why you came in later than you normally do, so you wouldn't run into her. You don't really want to be here so you've fallen back to drinking your special stock of gin to cope."

"You know, it's a different experience entirely seeing you do that first hand than reading it on John's blog or the papers," I giggled finishing my glass and placing it on the table.

"You read John's blog?"

"I perused. At least when he used to write it. Hasn't been an entry really since you jumped."

"Ah."

"And if you're curious, you're pretty spot-on. Camille and I did have a fight and are not currently talking at this point in time thanks to her dirt bag husband. He's trying to convince her to sell the pub, mainly because he has a gambling problem that she's in denial about. I refused to sign anything. I grew up here, in this very booth. There's no way I'd give that up."

"Sorry."

"It is what it is. We both said some not nice things, she'll get over it, I'll move on, and we'll be fine. We wouldn't have to worry about it if Mr. scumbag was outta the picture, but what ya gonna do…so what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Does the dead man have any family?"

"He's dead so technically no," he smirked. I placed my chin in my hand, elbow resting on the table, and smiled at him, waiting for a proper answer. "I have a brother, we don't get on. Well I guess that still holds true even though I'm dead."

"You ever going to tell anyone you're alive?"

"When it is convenient for them to know."

"I think your best friend would appreciate it."

"I didn't ask for your opinion."

"I don't care, I'm giving it anyway."

"You're very frustrating that way aren't you?"

"So I'm told. Ask me how much I care."

"You don't, which is why you give your opinion willingly and unwantingly."

"Kind of like you."

"In a sense, yes," he sighed reluctantly as Mary brought over two bowls full of my homemade stew, bread and two more glasses of gin.

"Anything else Charlie?" Mary asked.

"I think we're good for now. Check back in about an hour."

"Can do," she said smiling at us as she left. I saw Sherlock look down at the bowl and new glass sitting in front of him.

"Homemade beef stew. Nice and hearty and of course a refill," I said answering the look on his face.

"Thank you I believe is customary in this instance."

"You're welcome," I giggled. "Are you always so prim and proper?"

"Mostly. You'd be surprised."

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A/N: Guess there's no stopping now. Hope you like so far. There's a tons more to come. Updates should be regular seeing as most of it has already been typed up. So until the next time, thanks for stopping by.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks to everyone reading and following so far. Here's chap 2, enjoy & Good day :)

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We chatted the night away more and more with the more we sipped our drinks. I told him details from my life while he told me about the days leading up to his fall. The pub closed at two and he still sat with me. Mary had taken up the job of escorting John home earlier while I finished closing up. The rest of the staff had gone so Sherlock came to stand at the till with me while I closed everything out.

"Are you sure you should be counting that while you are inebriated?" Sherlock asked leaning up against the counter next to me.

"Ya know how many times I've done this?" I giggled. "I always chaperone the night shift while Camille does the day shift. I kick back often since I'm stuck here. Mary normally does this part, but she accompanied your intoxicated friend home. He, who by the way in case you didn't know, is intoxicated because of you."

"Trust me, I am well aware of this fact," he chuckled. "I am amazed, most people can't hold my attention for long, but you managed to do so all night."

"And only half the things you've said are insults," I said poking him.

"I am a blatantly honest person, what can I say?" he chuckled.

"A lot I imagine," I said as I wrote down the amount from the till and started running the credit report. "Would you care counting the tip jar for me?"

"I have nothing better to do," he replied grabbing it from the counter as the credit report printed. I ran the employee report next and after everything was printed I grabbed the reports and cash and walked to the office. Sherlock followed me, shutting the door behind him as I hopped up onto the bar stool we had in the office. I turned the computer on and grabbed a bank slip from the shelf and the notebook we recorded everything in as back-up in case something happened to the computer. "Need me to do anything?"

"Nope, just stand there and look pretty," I replied. I froze realizing what had come out of my drunken mouth.

"How does one stand and look pretty?" he asked, not seeming to mind. My face burned from a combination of alcohol and embarrassment regardless.

"Good question. Not a clue." He laughed as I punched in numbers onto the computer.

"It's funny, I am normally not this relaxed around anyone. Well besides John and occasionally Mrs. Hudson. I can't tell if it's the alcohol or you."

"That or you've been isolated from people so long you crave human interaction."

"Nonsense. Humans are idiots and I really could not be bothered by them."

"Then I'd vote alcohol," I giggled. "I'm really not all that great of company."

"I beg to differ."

"Beg to differ all you like, I'm just telling you my own personal opinion."

"Seeing as your opinion is currently coming from a drunken stupor, I shall not take it into account."

"I am not that drunk."

"Charlotte, if I am feeling the effects of 3 glasses of rather strong gin, you most definitely are as well."

"I don't know what it is you are talking about," I replied giving him my sweetest, most innocent smile.

"Yea, ok," he laughed. "Keep telling yourself that and maybe it will be true."

I saved the nights' profit and moved onto the employee time sheet. "Just be quiet you."

"Normally it's me telling people to shut-up," he mused. "Course lately that's just been Molly who seemed rather put off the last time I said it."

"I assume you probably weren't nice about it?" He didn't answer, just stood watching what I was doing. "So if you haven't been learning any tact, what has the dead man been doing?"

"Hunting."

"Hunting? You don't seem like the sportsman type."

"Not that type of hunting," he sighed sounding tired all of a sudden. "I've been trying to locate the rest of Moriarty's web, mainly his second hand man, Moran. It's easier to do so being dead because no one's watching my every move. If I was alive, they'd most likely have someone keeping an eye on me."

"That can't take up all of your time surely."

He watched me carefully, "Why so curious?"

"Got nothing better to do. Besides I seem to find you fascinating."

"Likewise," he chuckled moving closer. "When I'm not doing that, I'm calling in anonymous tips to Scotland yard."

I laughed, "How have you not been found out?"

"Oh I am very, very clever," he smirked, "and very, very good at impressions. Aren't you done yet?"

"Just gotta print everything Mr. Impatient. Then off to the bank to throw the cash in the deposit box and homeward."

"Ah and you sad Mary normally does all this?"

"She counts the til and closes that out while I do the employee reports and then we do the bank box together."

"Ah."

"Plus, we don't have some tall, dark handsome bloke bothering us while we do it," I giggled.

"If I'm bothering you, I'll just take my leave then."

"No," I said grabbing his shirt sleeve as he made to move away. "You must accompany me to the bank."

"And why must I do that? You just insulted me."

"But I also complimented you. Plus I was kidding about the bothering part."

"Your point?"

"What if I get mugged?" I asked batting my eyelashes at him.

He sighed, "Well then I guess I shall accompany you."

"Good. Grab me that deposit bag please." He reached about my head and pulled a plastic envelope down. "Thanks."

"Most welcome." I put all the cash and deposit slip in the envelope and sealed it. I turned on the stool to see him standing in very close proximity to me. "If I were to do something extremely impulsive on my part, do you think you'd be ok with that?"

"Heh, uh depends what that is?" I replied my voice squeaking. He leaned forward slowly and lightly pressed his lips to mine before pulling away quickly and trying to gage my reaction. "Um, yes, I think I'd be ok with that."

"Good because I never do things like that and I would hate to have a negative reaction."

"Must've been some impulse then," I giggled. "Jeez, I need to sober up and stop all this damn giggling like a school girl crap…"

"It's fine," he smirked. "Just blame you being a tad sloshed."

"You seem to like that excuse," I said smiling to myself as I hopped of the stool. I grabbed my jacket and scarf and put them on. I grabbed my newsboy hat and instead of putting it on my own head, I shoved it on Sherlock's.

"What's this?"

"My hat. There's cameras around the deposit box. If you are to accompany me, then you shall need something that covers your face up. You want to stay dead don't you?"

"Right. Should've though of that myself," he replied as we left the office and I locked up.

"Blame the alcohol."

"Now who enjoys using that excuse?" He grabbed his jacket from the table and pulled it on, popping the collard and leaving his scarf untied around his neck. "How's this for a disguise?"

"As inconspicuous as you can get I imagine," I giggled.

He winked at me and motioned for me to take the lead. I shut off most of the lights, double checked things in the kitchen and opened the back door in the alley for us to exit. I locked up the back door and walked to the end of the alley, Sherlock next to me. We walked in silence to the bank. I stopped at the curb before the deposit box

"Wait here. Just turn your back and wait for me."

"Don't trust me?" he asked leaning nonchalantly up against the light post, his hands shoved in his pockets, back facing the box.

"The less change for your face being caught on film the better," I replied walked up to the box, unlocking it, and dropping the deposit it. I closed it and took my key out, turning back to Sherlock. I walked over and looped my arm in his and started walking, "And for some reason I do trust you."

"Ok. And what's this about?" he asked looking down at our linked arms.

"Show for the camera. You never liked people touching you intimately, at least in the public eye. This way they'll think it's you even less, yea?"

"You're not normally this clever am I right?"

"Alcohol does wonders to clear brain clutter." He laughed.

"Seems to slow mine down and think of things I don't normally consider. I don't particularly like it."

"Like what?" I asked curious as I steered him in the direction of my flat. "What things are you thinking about?"

He took a deep breath, "Like how I would like to be impulsive again."

"Yea?"

"But I would hate to cross some sort of line. It wouldn't be fair to you."

"Fair is for idiots," I said making him laugh again. "Where are you staying for the night if you're not staying at your friend's?"

"Probably the underground."

"But it's cold out."

"Well when one is dead, they don't have many options now do they? Especially when their keeper is on holiday and her flat is impossible for me to break into for some reason…"

"Then stay with me. I have a couch that's not being used. This way you're not freezing your skinny arse off."

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to impose."

"You've been imposing on me all night," I joked.

"Well if that's the case, I may as well continue to do so," he replied. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

"How far?"

"Few more blocks," I shivered, my teeth chartering. The chill air was starting to get to me a bit. He pulled his arm from mine and wrapped it around my shoulders, pulling me closer to him. "You seriously don't have to do that."

"Do shut up Miss Brennan. I don't do things like this so I'd quite like it if the drunken commentary coming out of your mouth would cease."

"Listen you-" He stopped and leaned down quickly again to kiss me, silencing me in the process.

"Hm, maybe there is something to this intimacy thing after all."

"Shut it…" I grumbled as he grinned at me

Ten minutes later we got up to the door where my flat was. I unlocked it and let him in. He waited for me before following me up the steps to my living room, which was thankfully clean. I took my coat off and hung it up in the closet and held my hand out for Sherlock's.

"What?"

"Your coat please. My flat is currently clean and I would like it to say that way, even with a guest in it."

"Ah." He took off his jacket and scarf and handed them to me. I hung them up carefully, shutting the closet.

"Give me a second to see if I still have some of my ex's old clothes here. Unless you want to sleep in your own?"

"Whatever you wish, though pajamas would be wonderful."

"I'll get you some," I rolled my eyes as he looked innocently around my apartment. "And some blankets. You can help yourself to the kitchen if you'd like."

"Thank you."

I came out a few minutes later from my bedroom having succeeded in located pajamas my ex had left behind. I placed them on the counter in the bathroom and grabbed blankets out of the closet before walking back out to my living room where Sherlock still stood examining every aspect it seemed.

"Here's the blankets. I put the pajamas in the bathroom. Down the hall and to the right," I said pointing.

"Thank you," he replied sauntering down the hall. I walked into the kitchen and grabbed myself a glass of water. I drank half of it before topping it off again and walking around the corner and down the hall to my room. I walked back out and managed to bump into him as he was leaving the bathroom.

"Sorry," I giggled, embarrassed for not watching where I was going.

"Nothing to be sorry about," he said giving me a small smile.

"You sure? I don't normally walk into people, especially in my own home. I mean-" He cut me off with another kiss. "Seriously?"

"You were babbling. It seems a very effective way to stop you," he said with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes, "Yea, ok smartarse. Blankets are on the couch. I'm off to bed. If you need anything, my room is right here."

"Obviously." I glared at him as he smiled down at me. He leaned in and kiss me on the cheek this time. "Good night and thank you again."

"Don't mention it." I watched him walk down the hall before going back into my room and crawling into bed.

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A/N: Hopefully your enjoying so far. Next chap soon.


	3. Chapter 3

"Charlotte, wake up." I head a low voice whisper before someone shook me, effectively waking me up.

"Hmm…" I groaned half asleep.

"Charlotte, the police are here and I'd rather not be the one answering you're door." I was almost instantly awake when I heard that.

I sat up, "What do you mean the police are here?"

"The DI and his lap dog are here, about to ring your door bell any second," Sherlock said handing me my night coat.

"You're still here."

"Of course I am. Stop worrying about me and get yourself up. It's 9:53 in the morning, time to get up anyway," he said pulling me up. My doorbell rang a second later.

"What about you?" I asked.

"Don't worry about me, I can take care of myself."

"You're not going to leave right?" I asked hopefully. He watched me for a second before shaking his head.

"I won't leave. Go answer the door," he ordered.

"Coming!" I yelled hurrying down the hall. I heard my bedroom door close behind me. I walked down the steps, trying my robe before opening the front door see a gray haired man and black woman standing there. "Can I help you?"

"Detective Inspector Lestrade," the man said holding up his badge. "And Sergeant Donovan. Are you Charlotte Brennan? May we have a word?"

"Uh, yea sure. Come on up," I said moving aside to let them in. "What's this about?"

"If you could have a seat ma'am," the DI said motioning me to sit down on my couch. He sat down in my chair catty corner to it and the sergeant stood across from me.

"Now please, what is this about?" I asked confused.

"When was the last time you saw your sister Camille?" the DI asked.

"Two days ago. Why?" I asked, my stomach dropping. I didn't particularly like the looks they exchanged. "Did something happen?"

"I'm sorry Miss Brennan. Your sister was found dead this morning," the DI explained giving me a sad look.

"Dead?" What do you mean dead? She was perfectly fine last time I saw her. Maybe a little pissed because we were screaming at each other, but she was fine!"

"I'm extremely sorry Miss Brennan. Her husband arrived home late last night to find her in the kitchen of their home. She was shot."

"By who?" I could barely get my words out. My whole world was in the process of going numb and imploding on itself.

"We don't know," he shook his head sadly. "We're investigating to try and find out. You said you were yelling at each other?"

"We had a fight," I said my eyes starting to water. "She wanted to sell the pub and I refused. I told her I'd take over fully before I let anyone else run our family pub."

"Do you know anyone who would have wanted to hurt her?" the Sgt asked.

I shook my head, "No. She was the sweetest thing, got along with everyone. Did you already speak with Tony?"

"Mr. Briggs already spoke with us. He was in a bit of a shock yet, understandable. He seemed to think you'd be able to give us some sort of clue."

"He's wrong," I shook my head, trying to hold back the flow of tears I knew wanted to spill over. "Camille did the day shift at the pub and I took over after the supper shift. There was never problems, we ran a clean place. The only trouble would have been at home with Tony and his gambling debts."

"Gambling debts?" the DI prodded. "I'm sorry, I know this is hard right now."

"Yea. Tony's got a gambling problem. Camille was in denial about it. That's why he wanted her to convince me to sell," I replied quietly. The DI wrote down something before turning the page on his notebook. He wrote something on another page which he tore out and handed to me.

"If you think of anything else, please call us. That's my mobile. We're going to do all we can to figure out who did this, Miss Brennan," the DI said as he stood up. "Do you need us to call anyone for you?"

I shook my head, "Uh, no. Camille was all I had."

"We're truly sorry Miss Brennan."

"Just find out who's done this," I managed to say as they let themselves out. I sat on the couch, unable to move as the realization hit that I'd never get to talk to my sister again. I was numb. Numb enough to not feel the tears as they fell down my face or that I was almost hyperventilating. I barely noticed the tall lanky figure that knelt down in front of me or the tissue he used to try and dry my face.

"Charlotte?" I looked into the blue-gray eyes I had been staring into the night before. He reached down and placed a hand on mine. "You're freezing. What happened? What did they tell you? You're in shock." He stood up and grabbed one of the blankets from the night before and wrapped it around me tightly sitting next to me on the couch. "Charlotte, what happened? Are you ok? Well you're obviously not, but why?"

"Uh no," I answered my voice as shaky as the rest of me. "Um, they, uh…my sister…" I turned to look at Sherlock who was watching me warily. I took a deep breath to steady myself. "S-someone shot her."

He watching me carefully, "I take it the outcome is not a good one judging by the state you're in." I shook my head wrapping the blanket tighter around me as the cold set into my bones.

"C-can you grab me my mobile" I stammered quietly. I felt him get up off the couch and return moment later. I unlocked it and scrolled through to George, the manager for dayshift and the man that practically raised us through our late teens.

"Hello Charlie, what's up?" George's familiar playful voice greeted a few seconds later.

"Um, c-can you c-call everyone and l-let them know we're n-not opening t-today?" I managed to stutter out.

"Charlie, what's wrong?" George asked, turning serious in an instant. I started sobbing, unable to speak. I felt my mobile being taken from me.

"Yea George, Charlie's not in a fit state right now," I heard Sherlock say, changing the timbre of his voice slightly. "Me? I'm a friend of hers…The police were just here and told her that her sister has passed away…Yea I know, horrible. Um, she's in a bit of shock right now. Just pass the word if you could about the pub staying closed today…No, I'm here. I won't let her alone…Your welcome and yes I'll make sure she calls you later when she's in a better frame of mind." He hung up my mobile and placed it on my coffee table.

"T-thank you…" I managed to squeak out between sobs. He gave me a small smiled before standing up. "Where-?"

"Just getting you some tea," he said his voice back to normal. I pulled the blanket tighter, unable to get warm, and tried to dry my face off with the tissue Sherlock had left on my coffee table. He came back a few minutes later and placed a mug of tea down in front of me. "I'm sorry about your sister. Do they have any idea who did it?" I shook my head. "They're investigating though?" I nodded my head, reaching for the tea with a shaky hand. My mobile started buzzing on the table. I saw it was Mary, but let it ring. "Do you want me to get that?" I shook my head and turned it upside down so the screen was facing down. "Are you going to talk soon? I am no good in these types of situation. Comforting someone is a bit outside my area of expertise."

"It's fine. What would you normally say?" I asked quietly, sniffing.

"I don't think you want to hear that," he replied.

"Humor me. Please."

He sighed, "People die, it's just a part of life. Wasting emotions on it is time consuming and pointless."

"Would you have taken the case if you were still alive?"

"I plan on taking it now," he said. I looked at him to see he was completely serious.

"But you're dead."

"Minor technicality. It's a good thing the only other person who knows I'm alive works in the morgue," he said reaching for my mobile. He punched in numbers after unlocking it and held it up to his ear.

"How'd you unlock it? I have a passcode on it." He smirked at me. "Of course, you're the great Sherlock Holmes…"

"It's Sherlock," he said into the phone a few seconds later. "When are you coming back, I need into the morgue…Yes, I understand I upset you and I am supposed to be playing dead, but this is far more important than your feelings…I made a friend, her sister was murdered last night…" He sighed, rolling his eyes. "Yes her. Molly this is not the time. I need the morgue to see the body…Yes the police are on the case, but since when do I wait around for them?...Fine, text this number when you get back and I will meet you there." He hung up and put my phone back on the coffee table. It started ringing again. Sherlock looked at it and showed me it was Mary again. I shook my head and he placed it back down. "You're going to have to answer her at some point."

"But not right now." I turned to look at him, "I'm going with you."

"No."

"Yes. She's my sister. I have every right to go see her. I'm going and that's final."

"Fine, but don't think I'm going to deal with you when you turn all blubbering again." I sipped my tea and glared at him. "Tell me about your sister."

"Why?"

"So I can start to get some ideas going. I can hardly go off you now can I? You and your sister are two totally opposite people."

I sighed, "Camille was a year older than me. Graduated top of her class in high school and Uni. Got a degree in business to help run the pub. She was smart, but not common sense smart. She was sweet to everyone and everyone liked her. Never caused problems, hated conflict and stayed out of trouble."

"What about her husband? You said he had a gambling problem." I nodded my head. "Could be loan sharks…Did they have any other problems?"

"Not that Camille was aware of or discussed with me. You think Tony could be involved?"

"It's a possibility but how…" I shrugged my shoulders and leaned back onto the couch. He copied me, putting his feet up on my coffee table as I pulled mine up onto the couch. "Sorry. I know you probably don't want to dwell on it. You'll have a lot to take care of." He patted my knee. Before he could pull away, I grabbed his hand without thinking and clutched it to me, trying to soak up his body heat. He stiffened, but I chose to ignore that fact, just needing some kind of contact with another human. After a few minutes, he finally relaxed, shifting closer to me and pulling me into him. "You do realize this is not a normal occurrence correct?"

"Shut it, I know," I sniffed. "I just need something, you're the only one here, so deal with it."

"Maybe if you picked up your phone when your friend Mary called, you'd have her to console you."

"I don't want to deal with Mary yet. She'll be blubbering about worse than I am which will cause me to blubber about. I just need to sit here and gather myself and the best way to remind myself I'm human and alive is to have human contact so just do me a favor and be human for a moment."

"I seem to remember a rather interesting way of silencing you," he said.

"Don't."

"Why? You didn't seem to mind last night."

I sighed, snuggling down into him, "You do that, I may want a different form of human contact and trust me when I say I would have no problem taking you right here, right now, on this very couch."

"Oh." I felt him laugh. "You're still talking. I may have no choice soon."

"I seem to recall telling you to shut up." He wrapped an arm around me, pull me in closer. I closed my eyes, trying to clear my head and gather my thoughts. I could hear Sherlock's heart beating in his chest as I cuddled into him, trying to grasp a sense of reality.


	4. Chapter 4

The feeling of someone moving me woke me up. I opened my eyes to see Sherlock getting up. "What time is it…?"

"It's 5:58," he replied. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. There's someone at your door."

"Oh." I sat up and ran my hands through my hair as he walked over to the kitchen window and peeked out of it. "Who is it?"

"Looks like your friend Mary and…dammit, I'll be camping in your bedroom. You have to answer your own door," he said walking back out to the living room.

"Why?" I asked throwing the blanket off me as I heard my doorbell ring and knocking start.

"John's with her for whatever reason," he said grabbing his blazer from the chair and walking back to my room. He stopped and looked at me, gesturing me to hurry up. I rolled my eyes and pushed myself into motion. Dead men were bossier then they should be…

I walked down the steps and opened the door. Mary stood there, first raised, ready to knock again. She let out a breath before attaching herself onto me and hugging me, squeezing me to death. When she finally let me go, she put both hands on my cheeks and looked me in the eye.

"How are you? I was worried because you weren't answering your mobile so I told John we were stopping to check on you before we went to dinner." I moved aside to let them up the stairs.

"Hello again," John greeted following Mary.

"Hi," I croaked, my throat still dry from the unplanned nap I had taken. I followed them up the steps to my living room. John was looking around while Mary stood awkwardly by my chair watching me.

"George called me," she said when I didn't say anything. "I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry. Are you ok? Do you need anything?"

"Honestly, I'm still in shock over the whole thing," I sighed. She nodded her head before walking over and hugging me again.

"Have you eaten yet?" I shook my head. "Why not come with us?"

"No. I'm not crashing your date," I said shaking my head and trying to blink back new tears. "You two go, have fun."

"Charlie, I am not leaving you here to wallow alone. Your sister died, she was all you had. I'm not leaving you by yourself," Mary said grabbing my arms gently.

"Mary," I said taking her hands, "Seriously, I'm fine. I'll be ok. Just let me go today. Tomorrow you can get on my case about it. I won't be alone anyway."

"What do you mean you're not alone?" she asked still giving me a worried look. "Who's here?"

"No one at the moment," I sighed not wanting to tell her about the guest in my bedroom since John was with her.

"At the moment? Was someone here?" I rolled my eyes at her and walked into my kitchen. "Was it talk, dark and handsome from the pub?"

I felt my face burn and tried to avoid looking in John's direction. I heard my text message go off and went back out to grab my phone off the table. I picked it up and unlocked it and opened my messages.

-I'M BACK. BE AT THE MORGUE IN AN HR. MOLLY-

I turned the screen off and turned to Mary and John were both watching me. "I have to go change. I'll be ok one night, I promise. I still have to talk to Tony yet about arrangements and all that. I'll be at the pub early tomorrow afternoon if you wanna come in earlier."

"But I don't want you by yourself," she said hugging me again.

"I won't be. I promise," I said trying to give her a small smile.

"Tall, dark and handsome?" I rolled my eyes again and nodded my head to appease her. "Does he know?" I nodded again. "Ok. I'll trust him only because I trust you. If you need me for anything, absolutely anything, call me."

"I will," I said letting her hug me again. "Thanks for stopping by."

"Not a problem. It never is," Mary replied.

"Was nice to see you again John," I said as I walked them to the stairs.

"Same though I wish it was under better circumstances," he said holding out a hand for me to shake. "My condolences."

"Thanks. Have fun and you take care of Mary," I said as they walked down the steps and out the door. I sighed, wiping my eyes of any wetness and walked back to my bedroom. I opened the door to see Sherlock laying stretched out on my bed, arms behind his head, staring at my ceiling. "They're gone."

"Took you long enough."

"When Mary's determined, she can be very difficult," I said falling onto my bed next to him. "Your friend texted me. She's back and will meet us in an hour at the morgue."

"Excellent. You still want to go?" I nodded. "Why was John with Mary?"

"Date."

"Ah. Same old John," Sherlock sighed. "Your brother-in-law texted you while you were asleep. I read it, hope that was ok."

"Fine," I said unlocking my phone and reading the text for myself.

"Apparently the police aren't going to release the body until the investigation is complete which I could've told you. I'm surprised Lestrade didn't mention it," Sherlock drawled. He reached down and took my free hand making me look at him, "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine. At least he seems to have the majority of everything under control. Why didn't he call?"

"Couldn't talk? It's hard to say." He sat up on my bed. "You better get dressed so we can get going. You don't have any other clothes here do you?"

"Closet," I said point and sitting up. He walked over and opened it. "Box on the top shelf." He rummaged through the box after pulling it down.

"How long ago did he leave you?"

"Six months. How'd you know?"

"There's not a lot of clothes here, enough for maybe a load of laundry and you still have tons of space in your closet. So he took what he could because he left in a hurry meaning no time to wait for dirty clothes to become clean. You weren't home, probably at the pub. Lucky for me, he was about my size."

"Yes, you're very similar height wise," I sighed.

"Am I right about the other stuff?"

"Why does it matter?"

"Because I like being right and knowing I'm right," he said smirking at me as he pulled out a pair of jeans and button down flannel shirt.

"Yea, you're right," I rolled my eyes. He gave me a small smile before turning and going into my bathroom to change. I took the opportunity to change into my own jeans and a camisole. I looked threw my closet for a shirt when I plaid button down caught my eye. I pulled it off the hanger and sat down on the floor.

"What are you doing?" I heard Sherlock ask from my door. I looked up at him as a single tear slid down my cheek. "Her shirt?"

"I borrowed it and never gave it back. Now I can't ever give it back," I stammered holding it close.

"Do you want to come with me or not?" I looked up at him. "You'll need to hold it together a little better than this, ok?"

"Ok," I mumbled. He held a hand out which I took and he pulled me up. I slipped into different shirt and followed Sherlock back out to my living room. I opened the closet, handed him my hat, a different scarf and one of the older jackets in my closet from my dad. He looked down at them both and back up at me. "Incognito yes?"

"Yes."

We left my apartment and grabbed a cab. Sherlock gave the cabbie the address across from St. Barts. His friend was waiting for us at the entrance when we walked up. She was a mousy girl and did not look happy to see us.

"Why Molly, you're holiday has done you wonders," Sherlock said giving her a quick smile.

"Save it," Molly snapped. "I'm still mad at you."

He rolled his eyes and gestured for me, "Molly, this is Charlotte Brennan."

"Charlie please," I said giving her a small smile. "He's the only one that calls me Charlotte."

"It's you name isn't it?" he growled.

"Yes and how you knew it without me ever telling you is beyond me," I grumbled back.

"Nice to meet you Charlie," Molly piped up before Sherlock could say whatever it was he was going to say. "I'm glad he found someone else to bug, no offense. I was getting sick of him. What's he wearing anyway?"

"My ex's clothes," I replied looking at him with her. He had on my dad's old military style jacket over a flannel shirt and some worn out jeans along with my hat and scarf. He was an odd site to see, especially since he seemed to look uncomfortable in the getup.

"It's weird seeing him in jeans," Molly chuckled as her and I walked side by side into the morgue. "So it was your sister?" I nodded. "I'm sorry. It's not easy to lose someone."

"No it's definitely not," I sighed.

"Molly, did you-" Sherlock started before Molly cut him off.

"Yes. I have copies of the reports for you and everything else is ready. Why do you think I asked you to meet me here in an hour?"

"Oh."

As we walked in, I tried to gather my emotions and locking them in a box somewhere in my head to deal with later. Molly led as into an exam room where a block body bag sat on a table. Sherlock glanced at me quickly before walking over to it and waiting for Molly. She gave me a small smile before grabbing gloves and unzipping the bag. I stayed where I was, rooted to the spot as I watched them. I tried my best to no look at the body and I tried to ignore Sherlock as he walked over to me a few minutes later. When I did look at him, his eyes were questioning.

"I'm fine," I managed to say with an almost straight voice.

"Did you want to say good-bye? I know some people like to do that," he said quietly. I debated in my head for a while before shaking it. Probably not the best idea. "Are you sure?"

"That's what funerals are for."

He nodded his head before looking back at Molly as she pulled the zipper closed. "Meet you in the lab?"

"Yea," Molly agreed. "Folder's on the counter for you."

Sherlock nodded before turning me on the spot and gently leaning me to the door. A few minutes later we were walking into the lab. He pulled out a stool and sat me on it before picking up the manila folder and started reading it. Molly came in a few minutes later and stood next to me.

"So how'd you meet him?" she asked curiously. "He's been good about being invisible."

"He was in my pub, sitting in my booth," I answered. She gave me a questioning look. "My sister and I own Brennan's Pub. We have our own private booth that we sit in at the back of the pub to keep an eye on things. He was sitting in it last night when I got to work."

"Was he watching someone?" she asked sounding annoyed.


	5. Chapter 5

"If you mean Doctor Watson, yes," I said cracking a smile as she shook her head.

"He's going to see you one of these times, you know this yea?" Molly said to Sherlock.

"You know, I liked you a lot better when you couldn't talk in front of me," Sherlock muttered. "Things were much quieter and I could think properly."

"I'm just letting you know John's not as dumb as you think. He'd give anything for you to be alive again," Molly replied.

"Thank you for your concern, but it is unwarranted. Now do shut up so I can read this report."

"Ugh," Molly groaned. "Charlie, would you like something to drink?"

"Sure." Molly nodded her head at me and walked out of the room. "You could be nicer to her you know." He glared at me before placing the file on the desk and pointing at something. I slid off the stool and walked over to look at it. It was a picture of my sister's kitchen and back door. "It's Camille's kitchen. Why am I looking at it?"

"Report says no sign of forced entry. She was found just by the back door, like she was leaving to go outside or opening to let someone in. If she had no enemies like you've said, then I think we can determine that it wasn't a sniper. So she was opening the door for someone. Probably someone she was familiar with since they came to the back door and not the front. Why not a sniper you ask? Ballistics also stated it was point blank range so that seems to be the only logical explanation. Were you familiar with many of their friends?"

"Not really, no. The only mutual friends we had were people at the pub like George and Mary."

"If only I could see the crime scene," he grumbled. "Do you have a key to her house?" I shook my head. "What about the husband, would he be home?"

"I have no clue," I said honestly. "He probably wouldn't let us in anyway. We never got on. We could always swing by and see if the lights are on."

"My thoughts exactly," he said as Molly came back with 3 Styrofoam cups. She handed one each to me and Sherlock.

"You done yet?" Molly asked.

"I believe so," Sherlock replied. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. You coming back tonight?"

"Not sure, most likely not. Charlotte and I are going to see if we can get into her sister's place."

"Ok, then I can drive back to my cousins," she said. She turned to me. "It was nice to meet you Charlie. Feel free to call if you need someone to talk to and don't let him muscle you around."

"Don't plan to," I said smiling at her as we walked out of the lab and exited the place. "Thank you Molly. " She waved at me as she walked down the street. I turned and looked at Sherlock who was waving down a cab. We got in and I gave the cabbie my sister's address. When we got there, there was police tape around the house and the lights were out.

"Damn, I didn't want to have to break in," Sherlock muttered as we looked at the house. "Oh well."

I grabbed his arm just in time, "You can't do that. It's a crime scene."

"Your point? I want to look at it."

"Why don't I call the detective inspector? I'll tell him I need to get in and grab something out of the house.

"Too risky," he shook his head. "Listen, the pub isn't far. Go wait there and I'll be down in a few minutes. I just want to look in the kitchen. I won't leave any notice I was there, then you won't have to lie about not going in. The police always miss something."

"You won't be long?"

"No and yes I will come. I won't abandon you until the case is complete," he said.

"Ok. Be careful." He winked at me as he jumped over the fence to the back yard. I turned and walked down the sidewalk towards the pub.

I unlocked the back door, the pub eerily quiet for it being close to 9 at night on a Thursday. I turned the light over the bar on and figured I may as well make myself a drink while I waited. I down the first tumbler of scotch quickly and was halfway through the second when I heard the kitchen door open and Sherlock come walking in.

"Hi," I said taking a sip of my drink.

"Second?"

I nodded, "Want one?"

"A small one."

"Kay, glasses are right there," I said pointing. "Take your pick."

"I thought this was a pub, no one said anything about it being self-serve," he replied shaking his head at me. I smiled and finished the rest of my glass. "And I take it you would like a refill?"

"If you'd be so kind," I said sliding him my glass. He grabbed the bottle I had left down on the spill counter and poured two glasses and slid mine back to me. "Cheers. Find anything?"

He took a sip of his drink, "Surprisingly, nothing the police didn't already have noted. I'm impressed. They either stepped it up or I've lost my touch."

"So nothing new?"

"No. Just what we already know. I wish I could talk to your brother-in-law. I still feel like a loan shark did it, but they don't get friendly with debtor's spouses." He took another swig. "I'm sorry, there's not much more I can do in my present state."

"You mean how you're supposed to be dead?"

"Yes. It is suddenly proving to be an issue."

"You do know, you don't have to do be doing this? Risking exposing your alive when you should still be playing dead. The police can handle it"

"Hardly," he scoffed.

"It may take longer without you on it, but they'll figure it out," I said staring into my glass. He reached over and took my hand. I looked up and met his blue-gray eyes.

"If they take too long, I will come out of hiding."

"Sherlock, no. You don't have to. You're still hiding for a reason, don't come out on my account. I'm not worth it."

"Do shut up. It's my choice." I went to s ay something else when he leaned quickly over the counter and kissed me, lingering a little longer. "I told you to be quiet."

"I don't care. I'm not worth it." He did it again. "Will you stop that already?"

"I'll stop when you stop talking," he said with a satisfied smirk. "Of course, your subconscious must enjoy it greatly if your still finding things to blab on about."

"You must enjoy it seeing as you keep doing it," I replied leaning back on my stool and crossing my arms so he could no longer reach.

"It does have some interesting results. I must say, I should have tried this as an experiment a long time ago."

"Seriously? I'm an experiment?"

"Nonsense. If I would have tried this years ago then maybe it would have been. Currently, I am finding it entertaining to see _your_ reactions. I could care less about others."

"What's so special about me?" I asked as he finished his drink and put the glass down in the sink.

"I have yet to decide. This is a whole new experience, so I'm finding it hard to pin point." We stared at each other for a while. "Are you going to finish your drink?"

I grabbed my glass and downed the little that was left and put the now empty glass back down. "Done."

"Good. Let's get you home before it gets too cold. I'd love to get out of these clothes."

"I'd like nothing more than to help," I said before clapping my hands over my mouth and staring at him in shock.

"Three?" I nodded my head. "In the matter of 60 minutes with nothing in your stomach?" I gave him an innocent smile. He shook his head, "Let's get you home and maybe fed."

"Not hungry," I said sliding off the stool, wobbling a little. Scotch on an empty stomach is probably not a good idea.

"You haven't eaten all day and have had three glasses of scotch. You are eating something," he replied walking around the bar and taking my hand.

After only a few mishaps of me tripping and Sherlock catching me, we made it to my apartment where he then insisted I eat toast that he made. I glared at him with every bite.

"You have a violent streak when you're drunk don't you?"

"No. Just when I'm forced to do things I don't want to do," I said with a smirk.

"It's a piece of toast."

"I don't see you eating."

"I'm on a case."

"You're dead. You can't be on a case," I said pointing the last half of the toast I had to finish at him.

"If I'm dead than I don't need to eat."

"Neither do I."

"Why? You're not dead."

"No, but my sister is."

"Again, you're not dead," he said watching me carefully.

"Part of me is," I said quietly lowering the toast as my throat tightened and my eyes started to water. I looked up at the ceiling and tried to blink back the tears that were threatening to spill. I felt him move to sit next to me and pulled me closer. I dropped the toast and wrapped my arms around him and started crying into his shirt. I felt him stiffen a little before awkwardly rubbing my back.

"I've been waiting for this. Knew it would happen eventually tonight," he sighed. He leaned back onto my couch and pulled me almost onto his lap, holding me while I cried.

"I'm sorry."

"Charlotte, your sister was murdered, it's ok to be upset about it."

"This coming from the emotionless robot?" I sniffled.

"I just have no need for emotions most of the time. Caring is a useless waste of time when there are more important things to do. You, are normal and perfectly capable of them. It's your nature to be upset when a loved one passes. I'm surprised you held out as long as you did without breaking down. I would've thought you'd be crying all day, but you didn't. I'm impressed." I lifted my head and kissed him lightly on the corner of the moth, silencing his next thought. He looked at me and smiled, "Was I blabbering?"

"A bit," I sighed using the tissue he handed me to wipe my face and blow my nose.

"You should finish your toast," he said the corner of his mouth twitching. I glared are him. "Must I feed you?"

"I'd like to see you try," I grumbled. He leaned forward and grabbed the toast from where I dropped it on the plate. "I bite."

"I'll take that risk," he said holding the toast in front of my mouth. "Eat." I narrowed my eyes at him. "Would please help?"

"It might."

I heard him huff, like being polite was going to kill him. "Please eat."

I rolled my eyes and finished what was left of the toast. I rested my head on Sherlock's shoulder nestling into him as I was still sitting in his lap. He pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and spread it out over us.

"I assume you're going to sleep here?" he asked.

"I am rather comfy," I sighed. "You can turn the TV on if you want."

"Too much noise," he said as he lifted his feet up and onto my coffee table.

"I can go to my bed."

"You're fine. I am actually quite comfortable myself. Plus, I'm sure you'd rather stay where there's human contact."

"Preferably, but you've told me already how much you like it."

"It is not a necessary requirement for me, but with you it's bearable, if not slightly enjoyable."

"Really?" I asked. He gave me a small smile. "So you're never cuddled with a girl before?"

"No, I cannot say that I have. Girls are not my area of expertise."

"Please tell me that last night was not the first time you've kissed a girl."

"Then I won't," he said giving me another small smile. "Unless on the cheek counts."

"No. Lip on lip," I said the scotch making me slightly evil all of a sudden. He avoided looking at me. I lifted my hand and placed it on his cheek, turning his face to look at me. I leaned forward and kissed him. I caught him off guard when I didn't pull away and instead deepened the kiss. It wasn't until I ran my tongue along his bottom lip that he pulled away. "Problem?"

"Um, I'm not sure," he said sounding confused . "You're a bit smashed."

"Very observant. If this is about me not thinking properly, I shall be surprised. Trust me, I know exactly what I'm doing," I said grabbing his shirt collar and pulling him to me, our lips crashing together.


	6. Chapter 6

I woke up the next morning in my bed, my legs intertwined with someone else's and an arm around my waist. It took me a moment to remember that that someone was Sherlock. His head was resting on my shoulder and I could see him asleep, a peaceful look on his face. I hated the fact I could hear my doorbell ringing and I had to move. I slipped carefully out from under him and walked out to the living room, slipping into my night coat and tying it as I walked down the steps. I opened the door to see the DI standing there. He was alone this time.

"Detective Inspector Lestrade?"

"Good morning Miss Brennan. Sorry to wake you."

"No problem," I yawned holding back a yawn. "Come on up." He walked up the steps and stood in my living room. "Did you find something out about my sister?"

"You could say that," he said looking uncomfortable. "Did you receive any phone calls overnight?"

"To be honest, my phone was on silent and I left it out here somewhere," I said looking around for it. "Why? Did something happen?"

"If you could sit down," he said motioning to my couch. We sat down, the DI sitting in my chair again. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news two days in a row…Your pub caught fire."

"What?" I snapped as I felt my face drain of any color it had.

"About four this morning the fire department was called. They managed to salvage most of the building, but we're unsure the total damages right now."

"Do they know how it happened?"

"They're still investigating. Miss Brennan, I'm sorry but I'm going to have to ask you some difficult questions," Lestrade said. I nodded my head. "Where were you last night?"

I took a breath, "I stopped at the pub for an hour and then I came home."

"Alone? No one to confirm you're alibi?"

"They're a bit unreachable," I grumbled silently cursing the sleeping form in my bed.

He looked at me, "Are you aware of your sister's life insurance policy?" I shook my head. "After funeral costs, the remainder gets put into the pub."

"Wait…what?" I asked confused.

"When your sister took out her life insurance policy, she made it clear that if something ever happened to her, that after funeral costs were deducted the remainder would get put into the pub as an emergency back-up fund. Now that the pub has essentially burned to the ground, you're the sole person the insurance money would go to if it's beyond repair. You can see how suspicious this seems."

"Are you saying I'm a suspect?"

"Essentially, yes. Without someone to co-inside with your alibi, you are in fact our lead suspect."

"Great…" I grumbled.

"Where were you the night your sister was murdered?"

"I was at the pub. Got home about 3 in the morning after dropping off the deposit at the bank which you can check on the cameras."

"Were you by yourself?" I sighed, shaking my head, not wanting to lie but knowing I couldn't tell the truth. "Who was with you?"

"The same unreachable person…"

"A name Miss Brennan."

"I can't do that Detective Inspector," I said shaking my head. How had my life got so complicated…?

"You mean to tell me, you spent two nights in a row with someone and didn't get their name?"

"That's not what I said sir."

"I need a name or you're going to have to come down to the station and not in nice way," he said sounding frustrated with me.

I heard my bedroom door click open and cursed to myself as I turned and saw the tall figure come yawning out of my room, his curly hair untidy. I heard the notebook and pen fall to the ground behind me.

"Charlotte, where'd you…" Sherlock started asking but his question faded as he realized I wasn't alone in my living room. "Damn…"

"I didn't tell him, I swear," I said standing up and backing away. "He came to question me." He gave me a concerned look before I waved him away.

"Hello Lestrade," Sherlock side running his hand through his dark curls.

"Y-y-y-our d-dead," Lestrade finally stuttered after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence.

"I'll go make coffee, shall I?" I offered.

"Please," Sherlock agreed. "Black, two sugar. It's a long story Lestrade."

"John saw you jump, watched you fall to the ground," Lestrade stammered. "Saw you with your bloody head cracked open on the pavement."

"Which is what was supposed to happen," he sighed sitting down where I had been on my couch. "It was the only way to beat Moriarty. You have my phone in lock-up, extract the file saved from that day and listen for yourself."

"You've been alive this whole damn time!?"

"Apparently," I heard Sherlock drawl.

"I could strangle you!" Lestrade yelled.

"Then I would really be dead." I could hear the smirk in his voice as I turned my coffee maker on. "Now tell me about the case."

"Damn the case! How the hell are you bloody alive!? Why the hell didn't you tell anyone? And what are you of all people, doing here shacked up with a woman none the less!?"

"Lestrade, really calm down," he said sounding bored with the situation.

"I will not calm down! We've all been in a right state because of you!"

"I had to. It was either my death or you, John, and Mrs. Hudson would have all been shot and killed by snipers. My hands were tied, Moriarty made certain of that. Seeing as I did not want to die and leave you all in a heap of trouble, I faked my death." There was silence as I made up two mugs of coffee and took them out to the living room. Sherlock accepted his with a smile while I had to put the DI's on my coffee table in front of him as he continued to gape at Sherlock.

"I'm going to jump in the shower," I said to Sherlock. I walked back around the couch to walk down the hall. Sherlock grabbed my arm, stopping me in the process and made me look at him. "I'm fine."

"You're sure?"

"No, but I need a shower."

"Fine," he said and then surprised me and from the choking sound I heard from my chair, the DI as well, when he kissed me. "I'll give you 15 minutes and then I'm coming to get you."

"Why are you giving me a time limit?" I scoffed, glaring at him.

"Because I want to keep an eye on you." I rolled my eyes. "Charlotte, you lost your sister yesterday-"

"And pub."

"And pub. Wait, what happened to the pub?"

Lestrade coughed, "Caught fire last night."

Sherlock grumbled under his breath. "Ok. Regardless. You lost your sister and pub in the matter of two days, I'm keeping an eye on you."

"I know," I sighed. "Let me go shower. You and your friend can fill each other while I do so." He nodded his head as he released me. I walked back to my room to grab a change of clothes and then back across the hall to my bathroom. I heard Sherlock's deep voice talking to Lestrade threw the door. I made my shower quick not wanting someone to walk in on me. I put on a clean pair of jeans and sweater before throwing my hair up in a loose bun. I walked out to my living room to see Lestrade looking a little calmer than when I had left. I went to my kitchen and poured my own cup of coffee before joining Sherlock on my couch.

"So Molly was the only one who knew you were still alive?" Lestrade asked.

"Yes as she was the only one able to help me," Sherlock drawled.

"Ok and how does Miss Brennan play into all this? You just decided to start playing domestic with someone since you were dead?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "No I am not playing domestic. I was keeping tabs on John when Charlotte caught me sitting in her booth at the pub two nights ago."

"You've known her two nights? And you're sleeping here, at her place?" Lestrade asked looking between us, a flabbergasted look on his face.

"Obviously."

"And you're willingly kissing her?" We looked Sherlock, me trying to hide my smirk behind my mug. "Maybe you should've kicked off sooner."

"I did not kick off so I could become domestic," Sherlock snarled. "Just tell me about the case."

"What case?" Lestrade asked looking innocently at him.

"Charlotte's case."

"You're dead, you can't work a case. Besides, she's a suspect."

"How is she a suspect? She's been with me the last two nights," Sherlock said.

"Sherlock, everyone thinks you' re dead," Lestrade said slowly. "I can't put you down as a confirmation on her alibi. First off, you're legally dead at the moment. Second off, I just got off suspension because of you. And third off, even if you were alive, Moriarty ruined you're reputation. They'd never trust you no matter how right you are. Plus, they'd find it extremely suspicious her sister was killed the same night after you showed up at her pub."

"Nonsense."

"Sherlock, are you understanding me?" Lestrade asked.

"Lestrade, of course I understand. I understand perfectly. My reputation will be restored once you charge up my old phone. Besides, none of that means I can't give my insight on the subject and you use it as an anonymous tip."

Lestrade's eyes narrowed, "Do not even tell me the anonymous tipper is you."

"Then I won't. Back to Charlotte. What have you learned about the case?" Sherlock asked.

"Sherlock, I can't let you in."

"I was already investigating." Lestrade leaned forward and pinched the bridge of his nose. "It was someone she may have known. Have you spoken to the husband? My assumption is loan sharks are involved somehow seeing as he has a gambling problem."

"Yes we spoke with him. His alibi for the night the victim was killed checks out," Lestrade said leaning back to rest in the chair. "I'm sorry Charlotte, without an actual real live person to confirm your alibi, you are our only lead suspect."

"Why?" Sherlock asked.

"Camille's life insurance goes to the pub after funeral costs," I sighed. "Since the pub burned this morning and I'm the only living owner, all the money comes to me."

"I agree they're connected, but not that way," Sherlock replied after a few minutes. "Charlotte loved her sister, she wouldn't kill her, plus she was with me and I'm pretty positive we did no such thing."

"Coming from someone who is technically dead, you're opinion isn't going to mean anything or matter," Lestrade sighed. "Miss Brennan, you have no idea who could have or would want to do this?"

I shook my head, "The only thing that makes sense is what Sherlock's saying."

"Without some other kind of proof, no one is going to agree," Lestrade replied. "Unless you want to come back from the dead."

"Not particularly, at least not yet," Sherlock sighed. My doorbell went off. I got up off my couch and walked over to my kitchen window to look out before going back out to walk down the steps. "Who is it?"

"George," I told him as I reached the bottom. I opened the door and barely got hello out before he pushed past me and headed up the steps, talking a mile a minute.

"I'm sorry Charlie. I know you're probably not in the best of mind, but I was just at the pub after the police called me over and someone tried to burn it to the ground and I just had to rush over here and show you the copies of your sister's paperwork because I think I done something terrible," George babbled as he led me back up the steps.

"George, calm down," I said as we got to the top.

"Oh, I didn't know you had guests," George panted. He was clutching a manila folder to his chest.

"Oh, no it's fine. This is Detective Inspector Lestrade. He's the one in charge of Camille's case," I said. "Take a seat, I'll get you some coffee."


	7. Chapter 7

A few minutes later we were all sitting around my coffee table as I paged through the folder George had brought, Sherlock reading over my shoulder. "You showed all this to Tony?" I asked.

"I honestly thought he knew already," George nodded. "I'm sorry Charlie. I knew he was no good. Told Camille all the time when she showed up to work all red and puffy."

"He made her cry?" I asked horrified. George nodded his head. "She never told me."

"She didn't want you to know," George smiled sadly.

"How do you have copies of this?" Sherlock asked. "I think we may have your proof Lestrade."

"George was a licensed notary. He handled all of our legal stuff including wills and such," I explained as George nodded his head.

"And you had no idea about your sister's?" Lestrade asked me.

"Charlie and Camille came and did them separate like. Neither knew the other's, they said that's the way they wanted it," George added. "I thought she was going to at least tell Tony so that's why I told him. He said you was taking care of the arrangements."

I looked at Sherlock who stood up and started pacing. "I'm not. He texted me and said he was doing it."

"Lestrade, you need to call him in for questioning," Sherlock said after stopping for a minute.

"On what? His alibi checked out," Lestrade grumbled. "Plus, I've already did."

"But I haven't," Sherlock said. "We're missing something and only he can tell us."

"You're forgetting you're not technically ali-licensed to do this," Lestrade said flicking a glance at George.

"Lestrade, it's him. I know it. Why would Charlotte kill her sister and then burn down the pub? No, don't," he said cutting off whatever Lestrade was going to say. "Charlotte doesn't have money problems. Her brother-in-law has gambling debt. That pub was Charlotte's life. He married into it. A marriage which doesn't sound especially happy if the victim was coming into work red and puffy from crying. He had her killed to collect the insurance money to pay off his debt. When George here told him that it was all to go into the pub, he burned the pub down probably to frame Charlotte. You need to call him in before he leaves town. We need to question him. He may not have pulled the trigger, but he's just as quilty."

"How do you expect we get him in?"

"Tell him you have to talk to him about me," I added.

"Charlie's right," George spoke up. "Tony was always looking for ways to put down Charlie. He hated the relationship Charlie and Camille had. He was always trying to drive a wedge into them."

"Ok, so we get him there," Lestrade said, "Then what? You can't exactly go waltzing into Scotland Yard and I can't let you directly question the man without risking my job. Again for your sake if I might add."

"Charlotte can disguise me," Sherlock suggested. I nodded my head at him. "You have the room with the one way mirror. Put him in there and I'll feed you the questions from a microphone. I'll go in with Charlotte disguised of course and be on the other side of that mirror."

"Why should I listen to you? It's been hell the last few months and most of it because of you if I might add."

"Not for me. I'm not doing this for me or the love of the case. I'm doing this because of Charlotte." Lestrade looked at him, trying to figure out if he was serious or not.

"Why me? What makes me so special?" I asked quietly. Sherlock looked at me as if seeing me for the first time. A few seconds later he was turning to walk back to my room.

"I'm taking some more of your ex's clothes," he said as he walked down the hallway. "And a shower."

The three of us watched him for a second before exchanging confused looks. George leaned towards Lestrade, "Is that who I think it is…?" Lestrade and I nodded. "I thought so. I'm glad he ain't dead. He done a lot of good them few months back."

"Don't say anything George," I said quietly. "I don't think he's decided when he wants to be alive again."

"He's gonna have no choice soon," Lestrade added. "Whatever he does, he needs to tell John. I know he's not been having an easy time of it."

"Sherlock knows," I said. Lestrade watched me for a little. I wasn't sure what was going through my head but it must have shown on my face.

"Don't think too much into his answer…well lack of answer followed by fleeing," Lestrade explained. "Sherlock isn't good with people, never has been. Phenomenal at his work. Personally dealing with people, not so much. I don't know what's happened that last few months, but he generally seems the same. Around you though, he seems more human. I don't think he knows how to deal with it."

"Trust me," I sighed pushing hair that had fallen out of my bun back, "I know. He's talked to me about it a little."

"Good," Lestrade nodded. "I'd hate for him to inadvertently hurt you. You seem like a sweet girl."

"Oh Charlie's as sweet as they come," George chuckled. "She's also a pistol when she gets ticked off."

"You talk like you've known her forever," Lestrade replied.

"I have. Basically brought her and Camille up after their parents died ten years back. They were left the pub after the accident and I was told to run it until they were old enough to decide what they wanted to do. Went to Uni with their dad."

I tuned them out as we sat in my living room. I couldn't listen to George reminisce without wanting to burst into tears in front of the two men. After a few minutes, I got up and excused myself to go back to my room and collect myself for a few moments. I managed to sit down on the floor at the end of my bed before the tears came in full force. I heard the bathroom door open and tried to wipe my eyes of any traces of tears even though the redness would give it away.

"Charlotte?"

"Hm? I'm fine," I said pushing myself up off the floor and avoiding looking at him. Sherlock had crossed the room to stand in front of me, making me look at him and searched my eyes to see if I was lying. "Really."

"You are far from fine," he said as he leaned forward to kiss my forehead, "But I guess we will let you be delusional."

"Gee, thanks."

"Come, let's see if Lestrade has remembered that my word is law," he said taking my hand and pulling me back out to the living room. Lestrade was just getting off the phone. "Well?"

"He'll be at the station in about two hours," Lestrade said reluctantly. "This better work. Meet me in the second set of doors. Have Charlotte give her name at the front desk and they'll take you back. George is going to come down with me now to fill out a statement and give us some additional information."

"Excellent," Sherlock grinned.

"Charlotte, I want him as unrecognizable as you can get him. I want no chance of him being recognized."

"Yes sir," I said giving him a mock salute.

"We'll see you in a bit," Lestrade said as he and George left themselves out. I walked over to where my phone was and answered the few messages I had from Mary and tossed my phone onto the chair.

"Any ideas how you are going to disguise me?" Sherlock asked.

"A few," I sighed. "Back to the bathroom."

We walked back to the bathroom and I sat him down on my toilet in front of the mirror. He watched me as I started pulling out my basket of hair products. I plugged in my hair straightener and turned it on. While I waited for it to heat up, I added product to his hair.

"What are you doing?"

"Straightening your curls," I sighed. "If I had the time, I'd dye your hair, but I don't so we'll see how this works. I might change your part. We'll see."

"Then what?"

"No clue. I'm making it up as I go." I grabbed a section of curls and took my iron to them. He sat in silence as I worked my way around his head. "How opposed are you to make-up?"

"At this point, just do what you have to so I can solve this," He grumbled.

"Well ok then."

"I will get to the bottom of this Charlotte, don't worry."

"I'm passed the point of worry. I have entered the stage of numbness and bashing someone's head in," I sighed.

"Sounds like an interesting combination," he replied. "I spoke with Lestrade, he said the pub is salvageable. You should be able to rebuild it."

"That's good," I said my voice monotone so as not to betray any emotions.

"I feel like that's not how most people would react."

"And since when are you an expert on people and feelings?" I snapped. He was quiet. I looked into the mirror to see him watching me. "I'm sorry. I'm trying to block out everything until this is over and I can bury my sister. Then I'm going to lock myself in a dark room for a while. Emotions are useless right?"

"For some."

"You would know right?"

"I will be the first to tell you that emotions and caring are not top of my priority list. I rather dislike the distraction they give you when you should be concentrating on something of more importance." I finished the last section of hair and stepped back, turning the iron off and surveyed my work trying to figure out my next route.


	8. Chapter 8

The next few hours I felt like a zombie on auto-pilot as they passed by me in a blur. We had arrived at the station and met with Lestrade in the interrogation room to watch from the other side of the one way mirror. Between the two men, they were able to weasel out of the Tony what had happened. George's statement had been enough to terrify him into revealing everything so that he could get a lighter sentence.

Apparently, he had be in a large amount of debt, larger than even I anticipated, and the only way his tiny mind saw to see him out of it was to hire someone to shoot my sister. When the insurance money was going to go to the pub instead of him, he panicked and he himself set it on fire. The only thing we couldn't get out of him were any names. Supposedly he had gone through a third party who then contracted the killer. Sherlock was still insisting it was someone Camille had known seeing as she had opened the back door to them.

Sherlock was giving me worried glances as we walked back into my flat. I hadn't spoken a word since my initial reaction of trying to strangle Tony had been thwarted before I could reach the door to leave the room. Even when Lestrade gave me papers to fill out I remained silent.

I threw my jacked on the chair, not caring about anything at the moment. I could feel Sherlock's eyes on me as I walked back to my room and closed the door. He seemed to realize that I didn't want to be bothered. I curled up in my bed, not even bothering with changing my clothes.

"Charlotte?" I heard someone ask. I ignored it. I still didn't want to deal with anything. "Charlotte, it's Saturday evening. I've left you alone for almost a day."

"Go away," I mumbled. A few seconds later my bedroom light flicked on and I felt the covers I had somehow managed to be under being pulled off of me.

"Mary is threatening to come here and get you out of bed and functioning herself if I don't do it." I rolled over and faced away from him. "Please Charlotte. I'm not sure how to deal with this when it's not me that's doing this."

I sighed, rolling back over to look at him. He was standing awkwardly on the side of my bed. "What?"

He rolled his eyes. "Get up. Mary told me she's coming here in an hour to make sure you're up and out of bed. George talked to her and she was bombarding you're phone the rest of the day yesterday so I answered it."

"Do you not remember when I said I was going to lock myself in a dark room?"

"Yes. You've been in here one whole day. It's time to move on."

"My sister died and my pub caught fire. All because of some bastard. How am I supposed to move on from that? How?"

"I'm not saying forget about it. The pub can be rebuilt and your sister will still live on in your memories. Get up and start functioning like a human being."

That got me up. I stood up and placed myself in front of him. "Do you hear yourself sometimes?"

"I hear myself all the time."

"How can you say that to someone who just lost the only remaining member of her family? You can't just tell someone who is grieving and numb to just stop doing it and be human. Grieving is a human process."

"I'm not telling you to stop grieving. I'm telling you to stop acting like you're the only one who has ever lost someone and the only way to show it is by acting like a comatose invalid." I went to smack him but he caught my wrist. "I'm not trying to be harsh. I'm being truthful with you. Acting like this isn't going to bring her back."

"Ok Mr. Expert on everything, how am I supposed to act?" I smiled, angry tears starting to prickle in my eyes.

"I don't know, however normal people act. This shutting yourself away and going comatose isn't healthy and will only end up hurting you more."

"Who the hell do you think you are, trying to tell me how I should be feeling?"

"Someone who cares about you."

"You don't do caring. You told me that yourself."

He sighed, "I know and I don't care about anything but my work. The only exceptions to that are John and Mrs. Hudson but they are moot point seeing as they think I'm dead. The past two days I have not been able to get you to disappear out of my head. I don't know how to make you feel better, but I don't like seeing you like this either." I took a breath to say something and immediately burst into tears instead. He stood there awkwardly for a few moments before pulling me into him and hugging me. I don't know how long I cried into his shirt, but it felt like quite a while. Sherlock pulled away, "Hungry?"

"No…"

"You should eat something." I shook my head. "How about some tea then?" I sighed, nodding my head reluctantly though I didn't want anything in my stomach regardless. He nodded his head and took one of my hands, leading me out to my living room. He sat me on my couch and threw a blanket over me before going out to my kitchen. As he brought me out a cup of tea, my doorbell rang. "That will probably be Mary. I'll get it."

I watched him go down the steps and open the door. Mary immediately started chatting his head off as they came back up the stairs. Sherlock walked passed me and down the hall as Mary stood at the top, a plastic bag in her hand.

"I see he finally got you out of bed," she said in way of greeting. She walked into my kitchen and left the bag on the counter before coming back out and taking her coat off. "How are you?"

"How do you think?" I asked placing my tea on my coffee table.

"Be nice," I heard Sherlock say as he walked back out from my room. "And you're drinking that."

"Didn't say I wouldn't."

"No but I can read you like a book." I tried to block out Mary's smirk as he walked over and kissed my head. "I'm going out. I'll be back later."

"Ok." He smiled at Mary before grabbing his jacket and scarf and leaving the flat. Mary walked farther in and sat down on the chair farthest from me so she could watch me.

"He's staying here?" I nodded my head. "Good, I'm glad. Someone needs to stay with you."

"I don't need a keeper," I sighed leaning forward for the tea and taking a sip.

"Excuse me? Who had to pick you back up when Justin left you?"

I rolled my eyes, "Some pain in the arse."

"That you love dearly," Mary added. "So who is he?"

"Mary, I'm not in the mood to do this."

"My job as your best friend is to try and distract you. Who is he?"

"Does no one understand that my sister is dead because her husband is a horrible bloody excuse for a human being?"

"So you're telling me you'd rather talk about Camille? Because I can talk about that to. I just figured you'd want to steer clear of that until you were ready," Mary said crossing her arms in her lap. I nodded my head, but the tears started again anyway. Mary moved to sit next to me, pulling my legs onto her lap as l leaned forward to grip her arm. "It'll be ok Charlie," she said as I cried into her shoulder, stroking my head. "You still have me and George and we'll help in any way we can. If it's ok, George went ahead and started doing some of the arrangements."

"Yea," I sniffled. "That's fine. I'll call tomorrow to see what else he needs."

"I'm really, really sorry about Camille," she said hugging me.

"Me too."

We sat there for at least twenty minutes before Mary patted me on the back, "Now it's time to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"Don't really care. Whoever he is said you haven't eaten since Thursday night and you only had a piece of toast then," she said moving my legs off her lap and getting up off the couch to head out to my kitchen. "I have brought Chinese."

"Oh joy…"

"Silence, you love it." A few minutes later Mary brought out two steaming plates of Chinese and put them on my coffee table before going back out for two glasses of white wine. She sat down on the floor between the couch and coffee table and tugged my pants leg to get me to move to join her. I rolled my eyes and moved to sit next to her as she turned my TV on. We ate in silence for a while. I was surprised, I was actually a lot hungrier than I thought I was. "So you wanna talk about him now?"

"There's nothing to really talk about," I said stabbing a broccoli floret with my fork.

"Oh come on," Mary whined. "Who is he?"

"A friend."

"You going to give me a name?"

"Don't know if I'm allowed to. If he hasn't told you, then I'm not."

"Why the secret?" she asked suspiciously.

I sighed, "Once you know, you'll understand."

"Ugh, fine. How is he in bed?"

"MARY!" She gave me a big smile as I shoved her, "I did not sleep with him!"

"You mean to tell me you've had TDH at your disposal and have not taken full advantage of that?"

"TDH?"

"Tall, dark and handsome," she explained. "Seriously, I'd be all over that."

"Mary," I said slowly shaking my head, "No. It's not like that."

"Well if you're not going to, mind him I jump him?" I glared at her. "Ugh fine. So what's the deal? You like him, does he like you, give me some kind of detail.

"Not sure. How was your date?" I asked trying to change the subject. It seemed to work.

"Oh my God, he is the sweetest," Mary smiled. "He's got some issues though…"

"Like what?"

"Not bad issues. I mean, like depressing type things. Did you remember hearing about that fraud genius guy that jumped off the hospital roof?" I nodded my head, not mentioning that he had just recently been in the same room. "Well, here that was John's best friend. He was touching on it a little, but he seems to not really want to talk about it. I didn't probe. He seemed shaken up about it."

"That sucks."

"But he's really, really nice otherwise. Took me for dinner and then we saw a movie."

"You seeing him again?"

She nodded, "Tomorrow. We're grabbing lunch and then he wants some help looking for a new flat." I gave her a confused look. "He's been in the flat he shared with his friend. John feels like he can't move on unless he moves out. He said he thinks he may not be ready, but needs to do it. He has no one else to really help him, so I volunteered. I'm off my other job still tomorrow so I figured why not."

"That's nice of you."

"I can be a nice person you know," she laughed.

We finished our Chinese and chatted about odds and ends for a while, avoiding the topic of the last few days. I was glad Mary had stepped in to pull me out of my comatose reaction and back onto the whole living thing. A small part of me felt like Sherlock had actually called her in, but I'd have to ask him about it later. Mary shoved in one of my movies and we sat and watched it, me eventually falling asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Someone moving my feet and legs woke me up. I opened my eyes as Sherlock sat down and placed them carefully back in his lap, adjusting the blanket that was lain out over me.

"Hi," I yawned.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he apologized as he settled himself onto the couch.

"It's fine. What time…?"

"Three thirty in the morning."

"Where's Mary?"

"She left when I got back," he said. "She said you ate the food she brought."

"Yea."

"Good. You needed to eat."

"Did you put her up to that by the way?" Sherlock didn't look at me, but I could see the guilty smile he was trying to hide. "Don't lie. I kinda figured. It's ok, thank you."

"I didn't like seeing you like that and for once I had no idea what to do. I don't like not knowing things."

"I'm sorry."

"No need. It's just things I'm not used to. I never thought I would be worried over the welfare of another human being. This is why I don't do caring."

"I know," I yawned stretching my arms out above my head.

"Would you like to go sleep in your bed?"

"Doesn't matter," I replied. "I'm quite comfy."

"Ok."

I snuggled down deeper into my couch, "Where'd you go?"

"I was trying to see if I could get a lead on who might have pulled the trigger. I have my homeless network working on it. Lestrade showed me a more in-depth report that included the ballistics this time and met me at the crime scene. I'll figure it out, don't worry."

"I'm not. For some reason I have full faith in you." He was quiet for a while. I watched him. He seemed like he was deep in thought as we sat there on my couch. "Mary said John's looking for a new flat."

"He's not."

"She's going out with him tomorrow to help him look."

"He's not leaving Baker St."

"Sherlock, the only way he thinks he can move on from your 'suicide', is to move out."

"Nonsense. I'm not dead. He doesn't need to do anything. I shall be returning to 221B Baker St soon."

"Yea, well you might want to tell him that," I replied. Sherlock stared straight ahead. "Sherlock, you have to tell him your alive."

"I will."

"When? You can't keep putting it off."

"Tomorrow."

"When tomorrow?"

"After he goes looking for a flat. We'll go tell Mrs. Hudson first," he informed me with a smile.

"What's with the 'we' business?" I asked holding back my own smile.

"You're coming with of course."

"Why?"

"Because I'm telling you that you are."

"Why?" He looked at me, bewildered by my question. "I want to know why."

He rolled his eyes, "Because I want you to."

"Why?" I asked smiling at him full well knowing I was probably starting to get on his nerves.

"Must you have a reason?" I nodded my head. "Too bad, you're coming and that's it."

"What if I don't want to?"

"I don't really care," he stated. "We'll go after noon. Go back to sleep."

"I don't want to."

"Why must you be difficult?" I shrugged my shoulders. "What were you planning on doing then?"

"Mary said George was getting some of the arrangements done for the funeral so I need to get together with him at some point," I explained.

"Then we'll meet him in the morning and then go to 221B Baker St and tell Mrs. Hudson I'm alive and then wait for John."

"Again with the 'we' business," I smiled.

He growled at me, "Will you just shut up?"

"Now make up your mind," I giggled. "Either you want me to be quiet or you want me my normal self. Which is it?"

"I want a happy medium between the two, but that's not going to happen."

"Ah keen deduction skills Mr. Holmes," I replied with a wink.

"I suppose there's only one way to make you be quiet then." I raised an eyebrow at him. He reached over and grabbed one of my hands and pulled me up into a sitting position next to him so that he could lean closer and kiss me, our lips molding together. I reached up and ran my hands through his curls as he shifted us back onto the couch, me laying on top of him. He wrapped his arms around my waist and held me close. I pulled away and looked at him. He gave me a questioning look, "Something wrong?"

"No, not really." He raised an eyebrow at me. I leaned forward to kiss him again before laying my head on his chest and snuggling into him. "I'm tired…"

"Go to sleep."

"My brain won't let me."

"Close your eyes and you'll fall asleep," he said, his voice rumbling in his chest.

"I can do that, but it won't be quiet…"

"What are you thinking about then?" he asked.

I sighed, "Everything that's happened the last few days."

"It'll get better."

"When…" I asked quietly.

"I can't give you a specific time, but that's the advice most people give."

We laid there in silence for a while. I picked my head up to rest my chin on his chest so I could look at his face. He was watching me and raised an questioning eyebrow at me. "Will you be leaving after tomorrow?"

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"After John knows your alive, will you live back with him?" I asked quietly.

"Yes."

"Will I still get to see you?" I asked.

"Charlotte, have you not listened when I told you I wanted to keep an eye on you?" I shrugged my shoulders. "I'm not going to leave you by yourself. You've had a very trying week and to be honest, I'm still waiting for a bigger meltdown than what you've had. I don't want you upset with no one around."

"You can't keep an eye on me 24/7 you know."

"Ridiculous, of course I can. Especially if you come stay at Baker St until I see fit that you'll be fine on your own."

"Sherlock, I've know you four days. I can't move in with you."

"I'm not saying move in. I'm saying come stay at 221B Baker st. When you feel like you can be on your own, you can stop staying there."

"Don't you think you should talk to John about this first? I mean, he may not be all that receptive after he finds out you've been alive. I could see him going on a killing spree."

He leaned down and kissed me rather sweetly, "You let me worry about him, you worry about yourself."

The following morning, Sherlock accompanied me as I met with George at his place. There wasn't much George needed help with on the arrangements which I was thankful for. He let me pick out the flowers and what clothes she would wear before he suggested we go take a look at the pub. Sherlock didn't say much, but I could feel him looking at me every so often to see how I was doing.

My spirits were lifted slightly upon seeing the pub. Most of the damage seemed to be confined to the kitchen. It was hard to say seeing as we could go inside until insurance checked it out. The roof seemed mostly ok from the outside as was the front of the pub. There didn't seem to be a lot that would need to be re-vamped, but it definitely was going to need refurbishment.

"The police said the firefighters got here quick enough to stop it before it hit the liquor," George explained. "We'd need a whole new pub if not for them."

"Remind me once the pub's rebuilt and open to thank them," I sighed surveying the damage I could see.

"Do you want me to call insurance tomorrow?" he inquired.

I shook my head, "I will. You've done enough already…more than enough. Thank you by the way. I don't know what I'd do without you George."

"Hey," he said wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me in for a hug. "You and Camille was like daughters to me. I promised your da that'd I'd watch out for the two of ya. I may not have done too well with Camille, but I'll do better with you." He looked over my head at Sherlock. "That means you best take care of my girl here. I hear you mistreat her, I'll make sure you fall off a building for real."

I giggled at the taken aback look on Sherlock's face as he surveyed George. "Empty threat, don't worry about him. He's harmless."

"I'm not sure about that," Sherlock muttered as he and George stared at each other.

"Would you two want to grab lunch quick?" George asked.

I shook my head, "Not today. Raincheck?"

"Sure. You kids behave," he said giving me a kiss on the head and a 'I'm watching you' look to Sherlock before hailing a taxi. I stood next to Sherlock, took one last look at the pub and turned to look at him.

"Ready to start getting your life back?" I inquired when he didn't say anything.

He took a deep breath and nodded before holding a hand out for a taxi. He gave the cabbie the address and we were off. We sat in silence. I kept watching Sherlock as he sat there in thought. He looked worried as we rode along. The usual calm façade I had constantly seen on him the last few days slipping and giving way to the nervousness behind it. I reached over and took his hand, weaving my fingers in his and giving it a gentle squeeze. It was the least I could do to let him know I was there after he had comforted me the last few days, even if it wasn't the normal way but his own odd way.

The taxi pulled up and we got out. I paid as Sherlock stood on the curb and looked at the Speedy's sub shop and a blue door next to it that read '221B'. I watched him but he didn't seem to want to move.

"Are you going to knock or something or are we just going to stand here?" He looked down at me. "Would you like me to do it?"

He didn't answer. I rolled my eyes and stomped up to the door and rapped sharply on it. I looked back at Sherlock who was still standing glued to the spot. I rolled my eyes, "Really, you'd figure the fact you have an emotional range of a teaspoon, you'd be a bit better with dealing with this…" I heard the door click open and an older woman stood there looking at me.

"Yes?"

"Uh hi. You don't know me…Um, You are Mrs. Hudson yea?"

"Yes," she replied giving me a confused look. "Can I help you?"

"Um well…there's uh.." I turned and looked behind me. She followed my gaze and I heard a gasp behind me.


	10. Chapter 10

"Hello Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock finally said. The door slammed shut behind me and I turned to see she had disappeared. I turned back to look at Sherlock who let out a deep breath and walked up, removing a key from his pocket as he did so. He opened the door and motioned me to enter in front of him. I walked in and stood in the hallway. "Mrs. Hudson?"

"YOU!" we heard her yell before coming back down the hall, a rolled up magazine in his grasp. She started smacking Sherlock who stood there and didn't really try to defend her. I stepped back and stood up against the wall out of their way. "You are dead! Why are you standing in my foyer at a time like this!? You mean to tell me you've been alive this whole bloody time and failed to mention it to anyone!?" She continued to beat him up for a few min until she must have deciding it was enough and after I quick slap on the cheek she pulled his tall form down in a hug, "I am so mad at you Sherlock."

"I know. I'm sorry," I heard him say quietly. "I'll explain everything."

"You better," she scolded pulling away from him. "Now who's your friend dear?

"Mrs. Hudson, this is Charlotte Brennan," he said waving me forward. "Charlotte, this is Mrs. Hudson, my landlady."

"Hi, nice to meet you," I said shaking her hand.

"You too. Oh Sherlock, she's gorgeous," she said smiling at him. He and I looked at each and I raised an eyebrow at him while he gave me a small smile. "Come in, I'll make us tea."

"Thank you Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock replied motioning for me to follow her into her living room. He sat me down on her couch before sitting next to me after taking off his jacket and scarf. I looked at him as he rubbed his face where Mrs. Hudson had hit him.

"How was your beating?" I asked quietly. He turned and glared at me. "Just curious, trying to lighten the mood."

Sherlock rolled his eyes before reacting over and taking my hand, intertwining his fingers in mine and letting out a breath he was holding. Mrs. Hudson came out with a tray a few seconds later, tea pot and cups on it. She placed it down on her coffee table before pouring three cups and handing one each to myself and Sherlock. I saw a twinkle in her eye when she noticed we had been holding hands. She sat down in her arm chair, "So what have you been up to Sherlock?"

"Working on a case," was his tart reply. I looked at him surprised at his tone, he returned my look.

"Is that why you pretended you were dead?"

"Part of it," he said leaning forward. "Would you mind if we wait for John? That way I can tell you both at the same time."

"That's fine. I'm just glad you're alive. John will be to. He's been having a terrible time of it," Mrs. Hudson replied sadly.

"I know."

"Why don't you tell me how you met Charlotte then? Are you dating?"

I turned and looked at Sherlock waiting for him to answer. Mainly just wanting to hear his thoughts. He looked at me, "Why is it everyone thinks I'm domesticated all of a sudden?"

"Just friends Mrs. Hudson," I answered rolling my eyes at him. "He was in my pub and I caught him keeping an eye on John. He's helped out on a few things the last few days."

"Oh?"

"Her sister was murdered and pub almost burned to the ground," Sherlock explained.

"Oh no," Mrs. Husband gasped. "I'm so sorry deary." I waved her off, not wanting to talk about it for fear of crying in front of her. We heard the door click open out front and I felt Sherlock tense up again next to me as Mrs. Hudson stood up. "John, is that you?"

"Yes Mrs. Hudson," I heard him answer.

"Come here dear. I just made a fresh pot of tea."

"That's ok Mrs. Hudson, Mary and I just ate."

"John, I insist. You won't regret it," she said to him as she came back into the room. Sherlock stood up and waited as John came into the room. He took one look at the tall figure standing next to the couch where I was sitting and I watched as the color drained from his face. He looked at me and Mrs. Hudson quickly before going back to stare at Sherlock, who stood patiently, waiting for whatever reaction he was going to get.

"John what are you-" I heard Mary saying shoving past him. She took in the scene and then saw me. "Charlie?"

"Hi Mary," I said from the couch.

"What's going on?" she asked confused. "Why are you and TDH here?"

"Uh," I stammered. Sherlock looked down at me, raising an eyebrow in curiosity at how Mary referred to him.

"You're not dead," John said quickly, his voice steadier than I thought it would be.

"No," Sherlock answered moving away from the couch.

"How are you not dead? I saw you jump!" John's voice was slowly starting to grow in volume.

"I know."

John stammered at him before walking up to him and punching him square in the jaw. Mary squealed, Mrs. Hudson gasped. I sat there staring as Sherlock fell to the ground. John stood over him as he put a hand up to his face.

"You bloody self-centered bastard!" John yelled, red in the face. "You jumped off a damn building and then when you're supposed to be six feet under, you show up months later alive. Alive! God Sherlock! We thought you were dead and here you've been parading around behind our backs alive this whole damn time!"

"I have a perfectly good explanation," Sherlock said as he pushed himself up off the ground.

"You better," John said. He stepped forward looking like he wanted to punch Sherlock again, but instead pulled him into a hug. Sherlock looked slightly surprised as well.

"I'll go get more tea," Mrs. Hudson exclaimed as she dabbed at the corners of her eyes.

"So anyone going to tell me what's going on?" Mary asked looking at all of us. "Why is TDH getting punched?"

"TDH?" Sherlock asked curiously as he sat back down next to me.

I sighed, "Tall, dark and handsome…Mary, remember John's friend he told you about?" She nodded. "This is him."

"But he's dead," Mary said confused.

"I can assure you I'm not," Sherlock retorted. I could tell by the look on his face he was about to make another comment, probably not a nice one so I kicked him before he could say it. "What?"

"Whatever snide remark was going to come out of your mouth, better stay in that head," I warned. He gave me a look of disbelief and innocence like he had no clue what I was talking about.

"So wait, let me get this straight," Mary said. "THE Sherlock Holmes has been sleeping in your flat? Oh my God, you're sleeping with a celebrity."

"Mary, will you shush," I said shaking my head as I felt my cheeks burning.

"I'm hardly a celebrity…" Sherlock drawled.

"This is the mystery man that's been at Charlie's?" John asked looking at all of us. "Oh this is getting better and better."

"If one more person comments about the fact I'm going domestic since I died, I will not be responsible for the things that do come out of my mouth," Sherlock grumbled next to me.

"Well Sherlock, maybe if you had showed a little interest in these things before you committed suicide, people wouldn't be as shocked as they are," John scoffed as he sat in another arm chair. "You're not the reason her sister's dead are you?

" I'm the reason the bastard that was behind it is sitting in a jail cell awaiting a trial date and his co-conspirators to join him. Really John, what do you take me for?"

"Well I don't know," John responded harshly, "I'm still a little confused considering our last conversation before you took a dive off St. Bart's."

"Come now John, you know me better than that."

"I don't know any more Sherlock. Which time were you lying to me?"

"Which time do you think? He was going to have you killed John. You, Mrs. Hudson, and Lestrade. What was I supposed to do? It was either me die or the three of you. Who's lives do you think were more important?"

"So trying to ruin the faith in you was making it better?" John asked. "Ya know what, forget about it. Do it again, I'm going to make sure you're actually dead before we have your funeral. Maybe I'll actually burn you myself."

Mrs. Hudson brought out more cups of tea and handed them to Mary and John, "Oh it's so good seeing you boys together again. Now Sherlock, what happened?"

I made the mistake of tuning Sherlock out as he explained the events up to his death and after. My mind decided it was time to flash memories of Camille at me instead. I sat staring into my tea cup, trying not to let my thoughts get the better of me and the waterworks to start. It wasn't until Sherlock took my cup from me and set it on the table did I realize that I had been shaking.

"Charlotte?" he said, concern in his voice.

"Hm?"

"Charlie, are you ok?" Mary asked giving me a worried look.

"Um yea. Could I use your bathroom?" I asked looking at Mrs. Hudson.

"Of course," she said getting up. I got up to follow, ignoring the looks from everyone else. I knew I'd probably get the grand inquisition later. She led me down the hall to her bathroom, "Here you go."

"Thanks Mrs. Hudson," I said as she walked back to the living room. I walked in and shut the door before I couldn't help it anymore. The tears started and it became especially hard to catch my breath as a large gaping chasm started splitting my chest. I let it out for a minute before taking a breath and collecting myself, locking the bad thoughts away in the special place in my head. I turned the sink on and splashed some cold water on my face. I grabbed one of the hand towels and dried my face, trying to rid myself of all evidence that I had just been crying. Luckily I must have been quick enough because Sherlock was still sitting out in the living room with everyone else. I thought for sure he would have come to fetch me had I been any longer. All I got from him at this point was a suspicious look.

"Oh, by the way John," Sherlock said getting his attention.

"Yes?"

"Charlotte's going to stay with us for a little while. I don't want her by herself."

"Um, ok," John replied confused as I noticed a sparkle of approval in Mary's eyes at his words. "Where is she going to sleep?"

"In my room."

"And where are you going to sleep?"

"In my room."

"So you're going to sleep in your room with Charlotte, is that right?" John asked.

"That's what I said," Sherlock drawled. "What, did you go deaf while I was gone?"

"No sorry. I am just having a hard time picturing you…you know, never mind," John chuckled. "Charlie can stay for as long as she like. I know Mary has been especially worried about you."

"I can only imagine," I said looking at her as my phone went off. I pulled it out and looked at the text from Sherlock's friend Molly. I held my phone out for him, "It's for you."


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: It's been a while since i wrote one of these, I always feel weird writing them, haha. Hope you are enjoying the story by now. It's far from over, but good news, Mycroft finally makes an appearance this chapter! Enjoy!

* * *

Sherlock looked at the phone before typing a response and handing it back to me. He stood up and grabbed his coat and put his scarf on. Molly and John looked at him curiously. He turned and looked at John, "Well are you coming?"

"Depends…where am I going?" he asked.

"Lestrade is at the morgue," Sherlock said.

"Ah and you expect to just jump right back into this yea?"

"John are you coming or not?" John rolled his eyes and grabbed his jacket. "Just as I thought. Mrs. Hudson, thank you for the tea. Mary, nice to officially meet you. I expect you'll keep an eye on Charlotte for me?"

"Sherlock, I do not need a keeper," I groaned. "I can do perfectly well on my own."

"Really? Mind telling me what you were doing in the bathroom?" I glared at him. "Don't try to hide it from me. Mary, Mrs. Hudson keep her busy please."

"Sherlock –" he stopped whatever it was I was about to say with a quick kiss before leaving the room. "Damn him…"

"Did he just..?" John was shooting bewildered glances between me and the door Sherlock had just walked out of.

"John are you coming!?" we heard Sherlock yell.

"Yea," John called back. "Some things don't change…I'll see you ladies later."

"Bye," Mary said as he followed Sherlock out the door. We heard the front door open and close. "So what was that about?"

"The DI that was working my sister's case needs his help at the morgue," I sighed sitting down.

"No, I mean the comment he made about the bathroom," Mary replied as Mrs. Hudson grabbed the extra cups and took them out to the kitchen.

"Don't worry about it," I sighed. I was spared by more questions with the re-entrance of Mrs. Hudson.

"Oh it's so good to see them back together," she cooed as she sat back down. "John did Sherlock loads of good when they first started living together. Nearly broke him in half when Sherlock died. I'm so glad he's alive. Of course, it seems to have done him some good as well."

"How do you mean?" Mary asked giving me a coy smile.

"Well for one, I've never seen him so much as look as girls before and now he's kissing them," she laughed. "Charlotte-"

"Charlie please," I smiled. "For some reason he enjoys using my full name. One day I will hit him for it."

Mrs. Hudson smiled, "Of course dear. Anyway, I don't know what you've done to him, but whatever it is, keep it up."

"Honestly, I haven't done a thing," I chuckled. "He's the one who showed up at my pub and followed me home."

We chatted with Mrs. Hudson for a bit before Mary had to leave. Her brother had called and needed a last minute babysitter for her niece. She offered for me to come, but I declined. I wasn't feeling too much like dealing with small children. Mrs. Hudson offered to let me up into Sherlock and John's flat which I almost accepted, except for the fact that I realized I'd have no clothes or any things I would need for any kind of stay. Looked like a trip back home was necessary. Mrs. Hudson offered to come with me, but I turned her down, wanting to be by myself.

I took a cab home and walked up the steps to my flat. I looked around before walking back to my room and grabbing my overnight bag from out of my closet. I wasn't particularly looking forward to not sleeping at home, but he was right. It was easier for me to deal with everything when I was surrounded by people. Of course, I realized this a little too late as the gaping chasm that had started in Mrs. Hudson's bathroom started re-opening. I collapsed on the ground and hugged my knees to my chest.

I gave myself twenty minutes before I pulled myself back together. I grabbed some clothes and threw them in a bag before going into my bathroom and filling it some bathroom things. Bag packed, I walked back out to my living room. It was at this point I noticed someone was sitting in one of my chairs, an umbrella perched next to him. He looked up at me when I paused in my archway and smiled at me.

"Ah Miss Brennan," he said in way of greeting as he stood up. I didn't say anything unsure of this new stranger. He was tall and was dressed smartly in a suit. "I do believe it's time we had a talk."

"About what?" I asked adjusting my grip on my bag in case I needed to use it to hit him.

"Sherlock Holmes."

A warning flag went up. "He's dead isn't he?"

"Miss Brennan, you and I both know that's not true now is it," he chuckled. "He's been staying here hasn't he?"

"Who are you?"

"Someone who cares about his well-being."

"And that what would make you who to him?" I asked growing frustrated.

"I'd say a friend."

"He doesn't have friends."

He chuckled, "You seem to know him so well already. He'd refer to me as more of an enemy then."

"And what do you want with me?" I asked, my nerves tightening in my stomach.

"I was hoping to sate my curiosity about what he's been up to and what he's doing here with you."

"That's none of your business."

"Oh but it is," he replied. "Sherlock thinks he had me fooled, as revenge I think for our last encounter. Little does he know, I've known he's been alive since a month after his supposed death. I'd just like to know what he's been up to."

"Well maybe you should ask him then."

"You seem to not understand my position."

"Maybe if you told me who you are, I'd understand," I said giving him a cocky smile. "If not, I suggest you get out of my flat"

"So be it," he replied rolling his eyes. My phone started ringing. He raised an eyebrow at me as I debated whether to answer it or not. "Oh go ahead. It's probably him."

I glared at the stranger as I pressed the answer button and held it up to my ear, "Hello?"

"Where are you?" the deep baritone snapped in my ear.

"My flat. I went to pick up clothes."

"Alone?"

"Uh, yes," I answered, not mentioning my guest. Sherlock growled into the phone. "I'm fine. I told you I don't need a keeper."

"Stay there, I'll be right over." He hung up before I could answer.

"He's very protective of you isn't he?" the stranger chuckled. "I'd make sure you wash your face a bit if you don't want him to now you were crying." I narrowed my eyes at him. "Just some friendly advice. You're a bit splotchy. My condolences by the way."

"Thanks I guess," I grumbled irritated.

"I'd tell you not to mention to him I was here, but I doubt that will happen. So if you must, tell him big brother is watching. "

Before I could respond, he turned and left. I dropped my bag and turned and ran over to my kitchen window. I saw a him getting into a black car with tinted windows before it drove away. I wondered who this mysterious person had been, how he knew Sherlock, and what he wanted with him. I shook my head at the whole thing and walked back to my bathroom, figuring I'd discuss it with him later. I looked in the mirror and made a face. I was splotchy. I ran cold water over a wash cloth and put it on my face. I held it a little longer over my eyes in hopes that it would shrink the blood vessels a bit. I was just finishing drying my face when I heard my name being called.

"Coming," I yelled back. I turned to walk out and ran into Sherlock in the process. "You really couldn't have waited?"

"Are you ok? Why are you leaving your door unlocked? It should be locked at all times."

"Course I'm fine and believe me, I'll start doing that."

"Are you ok?" he asked again.

"Yes. I just said I'm fine. Why?" I asked confused by the look I was getting. It wasn't the normal concern I had been getting the last few days. This was different. "Why….what happened?"

"Your brother-in-law was found dead at the Yard this morning," he said watching me carefully.

"Good. Bastard deserved it," I grumbled trying to push past him. He stopped me.

"It was a sign Charlotte, a message. He knows I'm still alive."

"Who?" I asked wondering if he meant the tall man in a suit that was just here.

"Moran. They guy I've been tracking. You're sure you're ok?"

"Yes, I'm fine," I reassured him. "He's not tall with an umbrella is he…?"

Sherlock stopped running his hand through his hair to look at me. His eyebrows pinching together in confusion. "No. Why?" Before I could answer he hit himself in the head, "Myrcoft…"

"I'm sorry, who?"

"Was someone here?" I nodded. "This is why you lock the door. What did he say to you?"

"I'm supposed to tell you that big brother is watching."

"Of course he is," he muttered under his breath stomping out to my living room.

"Sherlock?"

"What else did he want?" he asked as I walked back out to sit on my couch while he paced in front of me.

"He wanted to know what you were up to and what I had to do with it," I explained. "Who is he?"

"Really Charlotte, he told you exactly who he was," Sherlock scoffed grumpily.

"No…Oh," I said when the message licked. "That was your brother."

"Obviously."

I glared at him, "Well it wasn't that obvious to me at first. Now why were you so worried before?"

He sighed, "Moran knows I'm alive. How and when is beyond me at the moment. He was also the one behind your sister's murder. Tony contacted him and he set up the hit. Who he set it up with is still a mystery that I'm working on. But the main thing is, he knows I'm alive and who I've had contact with, you included. He's going to be targeting everyone. And I have no clue where to look for him."

I could see how frustrated he was as he paced back and forth. I got up from my seat and placed a hand on his arm, stopping him from fidgeting. He stiffened, but didn't pull away. "You'll figure it out."

"But I need to do it before he hurts one of you," he said. "Or anyone else."

"And you will. Have faith in yourself. Everybody else does."

"I do," he snapped. "I just don't want you or John or anyone else for that matter to get hurt in the process."

"Don't worry about us," I said turning to walked away. He grabbed my hand and pulled me back, wrapping his arms around me and kissing me. I felt his body relax a bit. I reached up to cup my hands behind his neck, playing with his curls. He pulled away and rested his forehead on mine.

"I can't not worry about you," he said quietly. "You're one of the few things I can tolerate outside of my cases."

"Nothing's going to happen to me," I whispered back.

"You don't know that," he said as his blue-gray eyes met mine. I could see how much he was worrying about this and it shocked me a little. "There's far too many possibilities to consider."

"And I'm sure you'll consider each and every one of them."

"I'm not letting you out of my sight."

"Sherlock, you can't keep tabs on me 24-7. There are times when you won't be around."

"Then I'll call Mycroft. Since he knows I'm alive, the least he can do is to keep security on your tail when I'm not. He owes me anyway."

"Sherlock," I groaned. He ignored my protest as he look around my flat.

"Is your bag ready?"

"Yes."

"Good. Mrs. Hudson is making us dinner. I'd hate to keep her and John waiting," he said smiling at me. He stepped back and let me go so I could walk back around and grab my sleep bag. He was at the steps waiting for me and walked down ahead of me as I made sure everything was in order. I followed him down and locked the door as he hailed a taxi. The cab ride back was quiet. His flat, when we got back, was not.


	12. Chapter 12

"Uh, who's all here?" I asked as we walked through the front door and laughter and talk trickled down the steps.

"Sounds like Molly and Lestrade," he sighed looking up the steps. "She must've had John call them both. Great a flat full of people on my first night home...lovely."

We walked up the steps and it was indeed Lestrade and Molly sitting with John in their living room. Sherlock took my bag and cut through a door to what looked like a kitchen. John noticed and waved me into where he was sitting.

"Hey Charlie. I see he found you," John chuckled.

"I wasn't that hard to find. I don't have that much of an active social life," I replied taking in the living room. It had a definite bachelor feel and could use some tidying.

"Greg, Molly, I'm sure you've met Charlie already," John said as I chose a chair and sat down. "Mrs. Hudson decided to make dinner for everyone."

"Ah. Is Mary coming back?" I asked.

"She might," John answered. "Depends on when her brother comes back to relieve her of her niece who wanted to come, but we figured it wouldn't be wise to introduce her to Sherlock."

"And why not?" he asked from the kitchen as he took his long coat and scarf off. "And what did you do with my chemistry stuff."

"Mrs. Hudson donated it. How were we supposed to know you were alive?" John replied.

"Where's my skull?" he asked glaring at the mantelpiece over the fire place.

"That we put in your room. We were still discussing what to do with the rest of your stuff when you suddenly decided to reappear out of nowhere."

"Someone is bitter about the whole thing," Sherlock drawled.

"Can you blame him?" Lestrade asked. "At least he wasn't suspended from his job because of you."

"I'm telling you, play the recording on my phone. Where is my phone? I thought you'd bring it. I'd like it back."

"No," Lestade said firmly. "If you're telling me there's some sort of confession on there, then its evidence and you can't have it back. Get a new one."

"I can't until Mycroft gets rid of my death certificate," Sherlock huffed as he sat down in the chair to the right of the fireplace.

"Does Mycroft even know you're alive?" John asked.

"As a matter of fact, he does. He paid Charlotte a little visit before I got there." John looked over at me and I nodded. "Which is fine because I need him to up security on everyone anyway. In fact, Charlotte, can I use your phone?"

"Sure," I said pulling it out of my jeans pocket and tossing it to him. He unlocked it and dialed a number before holding it up to his ear. We all watched him as he waited for who I was assuming was Mycroft, to pick up.

"I need you to come to 221B Baker St.," Sherlock said into the phone a few seconds later without any form of greeting. "I don't care if you're busy. You weren't busy enough an hour ago when you paid a visit to Charlotte, so I think you can spare some time to come here. I have something I need to discuss with you." He hung up and handed me my phone back.

"You really think he'll increase security just because he owes you?" John asked.

"I don't think, I know," Sherlock replied. "He's guilt ridden because of what happened with Moriarty was his fault. Besides I'm not asking a lot. You and Lestrade should be ok, your both used to watching your backs. It's the girls that will need it."

"So he's going to come after all of us then?" Molly piped up from where she was sitting.

"I'd say it's a safe bet."

"How do you plan on hunting him down?" Lestrade asked as Molly sank into the couch.

"Still going over ideas. I'm hoping he's cocky or bored enough like Moriarty and decides he wants to play a game, thus drawing himself out," Sherlock answered.

Mrs. Hudson came up with food a few minutes later and pulled Molly and I over to help. We finished bringing up what she made (roast, potatoes, and carrots) and made up plates for everyone as Mrs. Hudson took out drinks. We each took our own plate and a plate for one of the guys backs out. I held out Sherlock's for him and he looked at me like I was crazy.

"Not hungry," he said. I shoved it into his hands anyway.

"Neither am I," I whispered back hotly. "But you're eating, just like you're going to make me eat. Have a little respect."

He glared at me before taking his fork and stabbing a potato with it and shoving it into his mouth. I smiled at him as he chewed and sat down in the chair that was next to his. I looked up to see four surprised faces staring at us. Mrs. Hudson was the first to recover and gave me a smile and a wink. We were halfway through dinner when the tall stranger with the umbrella, who I now knew was Sherlock's brother, appeared in the doorway, not looking very happy.

"Please tell me you did not pull me away from real work for a dinner party," Mycroft drawled as he surveyed the room.

"No. You just happened to walk in in the middle of one," Sherlock replied. "I need you to up security on everyone."

"What are you talking about?"

"Moran, Moriarty's right hand man," Sherlock said. "I've been trying to track him since the fall. He seems to have taken over Moriarty's web. He also seems to have figured out that I'm still alive. He sent a message in the form of Charlotte's brother-in-law to the morgue. Somehow he knew I was behind that and now he'll be targeting everyone, including Charlotte and Molly. Therefore, I need security increased at least on the women."

Mycroft gave him a calculating look, "Why should I do that?"

"Really now Mycroft," Sherlock huffed. "Need I remind you, dear brother, that you were the reason Moriarty was able to do what he did thus causing me to fake my own death."

They stared at each other for a while before Mycroft nodded, "I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you. Also any other information you would have on Sebastian Moran would be wonderful," Sherlock added. "And get rid of my death certificate."

"Again, I'll see what I can do," Mycroft sighed. "Now is that all or can I get back to real work?"

We all watched as Mycroft turned and left the flat. It wasn't until after we heard the front door close that Sherlock jumped up and take his half eaten plate out to the kitchen.

"What makes you think he's going to do what you asked?" Lestrade asked.

"Oh he will. Let's call it brother's guilt," Sherlock said smiling at us before he turned around and walked to the back of his kitchen.

"Mycroft blamed himself for a while with the whole Moriarty-Sherlock situation," John explained. "He gave Moriarty all sorts of info on Sherlock in exchange for information. Moriarty used it to his advantage to bring Sherlock down. He'll do what Sherlock asks him, at least for the time being."

"Mrs. Hudson, do you need help cleaning up?" I asked.

"If you'd like, "She chuckled. "We'll take everything down to my flat."

"Ok."

Molly and I helped her carry all the dishes down. I offered to wash them while Molly dried and Mrs. Hudson put them away. Afterwards, Mrs. Hudson made a pot of tea and we sat at her table.

"Thank you for dinner," Molly said.

"Yes, it was delicious," I agreed.

"You're welcome and it was really no trouble," Mrs. Hudson replied. "I'm just so glad to see Sherlock and John back together again."

"It is nice, isn't it?" Molly giggled. "I'm just glad he's finally out of my hair. If I had to deal with him in my flat one more day, he really was going to be dead. How did you manage Charlie?"

"Um, well he really didn't seem too awful. Of course, I was kind of dealing with my own issues," I replied awkwardly.

"Oh yes," Molly said remembering. "I'm sorry."

"It's ok."

"If you don't mind, when's the funeral?" Mrs. Hudson inquired.

"Um, George said Wednesday I think," I answered playing with the handle of my cup. "He was in the middle of organizing everything."

"Well you just let us know.

"Oh no, you don't have to come. It's not like you knew Camille."

"Nonsense," the older woman said patting my hand. "Of course we'll go. You're important to Sherlock and that's as good enough reason as any."

"She's right," Molly agreed. "I used to wish for the day he looked at me the way he looks at you when you're not looking. Don't worry though, I'm long over that. Having him locked in your flat for long periods of time can drive anyone insane. I don't know how John put up with him."

"None of us do dear," Mrs. Hudson sighed. "Just let us know the details and we'll be there."

"You really-"

"Charlie," Molly cut me off. "You'll need all the support you can, so just be quiet. Besides, Mrs. Hudson is right. You're important to him."

"I don't have any idea why," I snorted. "I'm nothing special."

"To him you are. Do you know how many meals I've made for that boy and he didn't eat them?" Mrs. Hudson said. "You are the first person he actually listened to when told he needs to eat, case or no case."

"Trust me Mrs. Hudson," Molly giggled, "You would've cowered under the look she was giving him too. You'll have to teach us that look, though I'm not sure how effective it'll be if it doesn't come from Charlie."

The two of them laughed while I managed a smile. We talked a little more until we heard footsteps coming down the hall. Sherlock appeared a moment later, jacket and scarf on.

"Going somewhere?" I asked as he pulled his gloves on.

"Yes. With Lestrade. John will be up in the flat, he said he's too busy with trivial things like his job to bother, so if you need anything he's there," he said. "I don't know when I'll be back."

"Ok," I said with a smile. He stood awkwardly in the doorway before quickly hurrying over to me, kissing me firmly, yet swiftly, on the lips and rushing out the door. "Be careful!" I looked over at the two woman I was sharing tea with who were both looking at me with big grins. "What?"

"I've always said to myself," Mrs. Hudson smiled, "That when that boy falls, he's going to fall hard and fast when the right person came along. Always thought that was John, but I guess I was wrong."

"What are you talking about?" I asked confused.

"Charlie," Molly said, "Sherlock doesn't do what he just did. He's normally just gone at a moment's notice without a word of where he's going to anyone. That, what just happened, never happens. Not even with John."

"I really don't get what makes me so special," I sighed perplexed by what they were telling me.

Mrs. Hudson reached over and took my hand giving it a squeeze, "Sweetheart, don't think about it and don't worry about it. Take our word for it when we say this isn't normal Sherlock behavior. Whether he's willing to admit it or not, you've definitely ensnared him."

"Ok," I nodded even though I still wasn't sure. Molly left a few minutes later. I decided to go back up to John and Sherlock's flat, thanking Mrs. Hudson again. I walked up the steps and saw John sitting at the desk making notes on something. "Hi."

"Oh, hello," John said looking up. "Sherlock left with Lestrade."

"I know." John gave me a confused look. "He stopped downstairs and let me know where he was going."

"Did he? Wow, that's a first."

"So I'm told," I chuckled sitting in the comfy looking chair Sherlock had been sitting in earlier. "What cha doing?"

"Catching up on some charts for work," he sighed scratching his head. "There were some I didn't get to finish up Friday at the clinic. Have to take them back in tomorrow, complete hopefully."

"I see. Sounds fun."

"If you can call it that. Mary told me about the no charge thing from the other night. Thank you. You didn't have to."

"Don't mention it," I smiled.

"So what exactly is going on with you two?" John asked. "I tried to ask him, but he was tight lipped about it."

"Your guess is as good as mine. I'm honestly just going with the flow. There's been so much going on the last few days, I haven't thought too much about it," I sighed.

"You're into him them?"

I thought about it before nodding my head, "I guess so, yea."

"Just do me a favor," John sighed. "Watch yourself. Be careful with him."

"Ok," I nodded. Sounded simple enough.

"You've only known each other a few days, I'm not sure what's going through his head, course I never do," he chuckled. "Just…just be careful. You're a sweet girl and I'd hate for him to do something and hurt you in the process."

I smiled at him, "Thanks John. Don't worry, I'm a big girl."

"I know."

"Thank you though."

"You're welcome," he smiled. "Just doing my duty as his best friend."

"You missed him, didn't you?"

"More than I thought I would, yea," John sighed.

I nodded my head before yawning, "I think I'm gonna head to bed. It's been a long day."

"Ok. Down the hall there in the kitchen," John said pointing.

"Thanks. See ya in the morning," I said getting up.

"Good night."


	13. Chapter 13

I walked back to Sherlock's room and closed the door. My bag was on the bed. I opened it and pulled out my pajamas and changed into them. I looked around his room. It looked like someone was in to clean recently. A few boxes were piled up against one of the walls and looked like fresh blankets on the bed. No signs that the room had been empty for the last few months. I pulled back the overs and crawled under. His bed was quite comfy and I nestled down into the pillow, closing my eyes and falling asleep.

The bed moving and someone wrapping an arm around my waist woke me up. I turned my head and cracked an eye to see Sherlock watching me. "Hi…"

"Sorry. I'm always waking you up aren't I?"

"It's fine. Certain things wake me up quicker than others. You just happen to be one of them," I yawned turning into him and snuggling into his chest. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in. "So everyone was shocked you told me you were leaving."

"They would be, yes."

"Thank you for telling me."

"Don't expect it all the time."

"I won't," I sighed, content to be held. "What were you doing with Lestrade?"

"Going over some of Moriarty's files after the fall to see if there's anything to link Moran to and to try and catch him before he does something."

"Find anything?"

He huffed, "Not yet. I'm working on it. Should be doing that now, but I couldn't think without something and I have no nicotine patches to help me think. So I have decided you will be my new nicotine patch."

"Gee thanks," I chuckled. "How am I supposed to do that then?" He leaned down and kissed me deeply. He moved to kiss my jaw and down to my collarbone. "Mr. Holmes, are you trying to use me to your advantage?"

"Like you care," he chuckled moving back to my lips.

"I might," I said into his lips as he continued to kiss me.

"Well then, your body is betraying you."

"I will have to have a discussion with it later then won't I?" I giggled.

"Don't you dare. I like watching your reactions," he said into my ear, his breath causing a chill to run up my spine. "Like that one for instance."

"You sir, are very frustrating."

"How so?" he chuckled.

I reached up and started unbuttoning his shirt. He tensed for a minute until I tugged him in for a quick kiss before pushing him onto his back and crawling on top of him. His eyes widened slightly at my boldness. I ran my hands up his stomach and chest and leaned down to kiss him again, grinding my hips into him and causing what I knew to be an involuntary groan to escape his throat.

"Charlotte…"

"Hm?"

"Now who's being frustrating?" he breathed.

"Not very nice is it?" I giggled kissing his jaw line.

"Not particularly," he sat up, me straddling him. Next thing I knew, my shirt was ripped off over my head and I was laying on my back. Sherlock propped over me and leaning in to kiss me as he hitched one of my legs up onto his hip.

"You just have to have the last word don't you?"

"It's my nature," was his reply before kissing me again.

A quiet knocking the next morning and the door opening caused me to stir. I lifted my head and cracked an eye to see John poke his head in, gape in shock, and then hastily shut the door. I shook my head and unwrapped myself from the gangly form that was sleeping peacefully beside me. I grabbed my clothes off the floor and pulled them on, grabbing my night coat from my bag and throwing that on. I walked out to the kitchen where John was leaning against the sink looking out the window.

"Morning," I yawned.

"Um hi, morning," he stammered, face turning red.

"Coffee?"

"Uh yea, yea here," he went into the fridge and pulled out coffee grinds and handed me the package. "Oh um, Mary texted me. George was looking for you and you weren't answering your phone so he called her."

"Is that why you were coming in to wake me up?" I smirked. He stammered at me some more. "It's fine."

"Um did you…?"

"What do you think John?" I chuckled at his awkwardness.

"I think the world may be about to end," he said, a shocked look on his face. We heard Sherlock's door open again and both turned to look. "Oh dear God, I did not miss that…"

"Miss what?" I chuckled as Sherlock walked out wrapped in one of his bed sheets. He walked up to me and encircled me in his sheet and kissed me.

"Are you doing this to get some kind of reaction from me?" John asked glared at him. Sherlock ignored him.

"Why is it I wake up and you're gone?" John continued to gape at us from the sink.

"John woke me up." He turned and glared at John.

"Really, I did not miss you coming out in just a sheet in the morning," John said shaking his head. Sherlock rolled his eyes and let go of me, stomping back to his room and closing the door. He gave me a questioning look.

"Don't even," I said shaking my head, smirking. "If you must… will definitely need some work."

"Ok, really don't want to know."

"Then why were you giving me that look?" I smirked. "So the sheet. Did that often?"

"Every morning, that was him. He had me webcam him at a crime scene once and then showed up at Buckingham Palace in that exact same sheet."

"Buckingham Palace, really?" I chuckled.

"Yes, Mycroft had a case of upmost importance he was trying to weasel me into doing and what better way to annoy him," Sherlock replied reappearing now dressed in his pajamas and a blue night coat.

"You're horrible," I laughed.

"You ended up taking it anyway though didn't you," John said. "That was the case with the Woman wasn't it?"

"Besides the point," he said walking over and pulling me into his arms again.

"Ok, this is hard to get used to. Just throwing that out there," John chuckled uncomfortably, taking the coffee from me and set up the coffee pot. "There, that's all set. I have to get to work."

"Oh great, you're investigating already," Sherlock said.

"No," John snapped. "I had to go get a real job so that I could stay living here in the flat. I'll be home for dinner. Charlie, don't forget to get ahold of George, otherwise Mary will beat me up."

"Will do. Thanks John," I said as he grabbed his jacket and slipped it on and walked down the steps. "Breakfast?"

"Not hungry," Sherlock replied.

"Ok," I said, walking out of his arms and into the bedroom to grab my phone. I did indeed have a few missed messages. I scrolled through them quick and called George.

"There you are," he said as way of greeting when he picked up the other line.

"I'm told you've been trying to reach me. What's up?"

"I have the insurance information for the pub. If you're calling I need to drop them off, but when I stopped by your place you weren't there."

"That's because I'm not," I chuckled walking back out in the kitchen where Sherlock was making us both coffee. "I'm at Sherlock's flat, 221B Baker St."

"Ok, I'll swing by and drop them off if that's ok."

"Fine with me. I can call while you're still here then. It'd be great to get the pub back up and going as quick as possible."

"I know what you mean. Alright hon, I'll see you in a bit," George said before hanging up.

Sherlock asked handing me a mug, "He has the insurance information for the pub"

"I have to call and see what they can do about getting the pub up and going again," I nodded running a hand through my hair.

"Ah."

"Any plans today?" I asked.

"None yet," he replied. "I might see if I can annoy Mycroft. And there's the paperwork Lestrade gave me last night I have to go over to locate Moran."

"Mmm," I answered watching him over the mug as he walked out to his living room. I followed him and leaned in the archway. "Did you ever think that if maybe you leave him alone he won't bother anyone?"

He glared at me from the chair at their desk pulling a folder over and opening it, "Charlotte, did you read any of the articles in the paper about the whole me and Moriarty ordeal?"

"To be honest, no," I said smiling at him. "I let my sister and Mary tell me what was going on in the world. The news really couldn't bore me more half the time."

"You're a business owner and you don't keep track of the news?" I smiled sweetly at him as I sat down on their couch and put my feet up on the coffee table. He shook his head at me in disbelief. "Moriarty was what you call a consulting criminal. People went to him when they wanted their problems fixed from the wrong side of the law. People got hurt and even died through some of those requests. If Moran has indeed taken over Moriarty's criminal web, then there are still lives at stake."

"Sherlock, you can't save everyone or stop them all for that matter."

"I've already taken out about a quarter of the web. If I could locate Moran, I could get the names and information I need to bring the whole thing down," he said piling papers into piles.

"Shouldn't you let the police or government handle it?"

"Those idiots? No."

"But then you wouldn't have to be worrying about everyone else either."

"I'll get called in on it anyway," Sherlock scoffed. "The police lack the brainwork and my brother lacks the people willing do what needs to be done. They'd both be calling me in on the case to help."

"If you say so," I chuckled taking a swig of coffee. I saw on the couch for a little, watching him as I sipped my coffee. He was definitely one of those that absorbed themselves into his work. I ran my hand through my hair and realized how greasy it felt, at least to me. I stood up from the couch and walked past Sherlock to go back to his room where the bathroom was.

"Where are you going?"

"To shower," I said pausing in the arch between the kitchen and living room to look at him over my shoulder.

"Why?"

I turned, leaning on the frame with a hand on my hip, "Because my hair feels gross."

"It looks fine."

"Well I want a shower anyway," I replied with a smirk. "Is that alright?"

"I suppose," he said making a face.

"Will you listen for George? He should be coming soon."

"Only if you leave me your phone," he said holding out a hand. I rolled my eyes slipping my phone out of my robe and walking over to hand it to him.

"When are you getting your own?" I asked. "Not that I mind, just curious."

"As soon as Mycroft gets rid of my death certificate and I have valid ID again," he huffed. I put my phone in his hand and turned to walk away. He grabbed my wrist with his other hand and pulled me down into his lap. He kissed me swiftly before letting me go. I stayed where I was though, slightly shocked by his action. "You can go now."

I rolled my eyes and smiling to myself got up off his lap. "Glad I have your majesty's permission."

He glared at me before going back to his papers.


	14. Chapter 14

I walked back to his room to grab my shower things and then into his bathroom. I showered quickly and walked back into his room in my dressing gown, a towel wrapped around my hair. I grabbed clean clothes and put them on. I braided my hair before walking back out into the kitchen. I grabbed my coffee from the table and walked back out to the living room. Sherlock was sitting on the back of his chair starting at the space over the fireplace, his chin resting on his hands, his feet on the seat of the chair. There was a map of London laid out across the desk. I looked over to where he was looking to see papers hanging all over the space about the fireplace.

"I was only gone about ten minutes," I said surveying his mess. He looked at me briefly before his eyes flicked back to the wall. I heard footsteps coming up the steps and voices talking.

"Sherlock, did you break the doorbell again?" Mrs. Hudson asked as she walked in. "Well that took him long. Where's Charlie?"

"Right here," I said walking farther out into the room. George was standing in the doorway. "Hi George."

"Hey Charlie, Sherlock." Sherlock was quiet. I rolled my eyes at him. It seemed to be a normal occurrence around him. "Here's the papers," he said holding them out for me.

"Thanks George. Come, sit in the kitchen and I'll call," I said. Mrs. Hudson took him into the kitchen. I walked over to Sherlock and poked him. He raised an eyebrow at me. "Phone please."

"Pocket."

I reached into his dressing robe pocket and grabbed my phone. I walked out to the kitchen and sat down looking for the number I needed to dial in the paperwork. Luckily the phone call didn't last long. Mrs. Hudson made tea for everyone as George and I discussed the pub. Insurance was meeting us there the day after Camille's funeral.

"What time is that tomorrow…?" I asked playing with the end of my braid.

"Ceremony at 10 followed by the wake," George sighed. "You want the car to pick you up here or at your place?"

"Probably here," I replied. "I just need to go to my place and get a dress."

"Ok," George answered. "I'll talk to Mary then. The car is going to take the three of us if that's ok. I don't want you going by yourself."

"That's fine."

"Ok, well," he said standing up. "I thank you for the tea and I shall see you in the morning."

"Thanks for everything George," I said getting up and giving him a hug.

"Anytime sweets," he answered. Mrs. Hudson walked him out. I sighed as I sat back down in the chair.

"Are you ok?" I heard Sherlock ask quietly from his perch.

"Yea."

"I don't believe you," he replied. "Come over here and sit."

"But I just sat down here."

"Please."

"Ugh…frustrating," I mumbled.

"We're going to have that conversation again?" Sherlock chuckled as I sat down in the chair that he was perched on the back of. He put his hands on my shoulders and squeezed gently, I Leaned back to rest on him. "You sure you're alright?"

"No, but like you said, if I don't start acting like I am, I never will be."

"I knew you'd start listening to me sooner or later."

"You're not always right you know," I said.

He tugged my braid, "Just keep telling yourself that."

"You're going to come tomorrow, right?" I asked quietly.

"Do you want me to?" I turned in the chair and brought my knees up to kneel on the cushion between Sherlock's legs. I wrapped my arms around his waist and tucked my head into his chest. I closed my eyes as I breathed in his scent as he wrapped an arm around me. "I will take that as a yes then."

"If you don't mind," I mumbled.

"For you? Never." I looked up at him. He was watching me carefully. He gave me a small smile and leaned down to kiss my forehead. "Now if you don't mind. I'm going to go change now."

"Ok," I said moving to let him get off the chair. I sat back down in the chair and looked at the papers hanging over the mantel. Sherlock came back out a few minutes later, black slacks and a light blue dress shirt. He stood in front of me and held out his hands. I put my hands in his and he pulled me up and into his arms, kissing me.

"So there's a method to your madness, yea?"

"What madness are you talking about?" he chuckled.

"The mess on the wall," I smiled.

He rolled his eyes at me, "Yes. So you want to go to your flat at some point then?"

"Please," I said.

"Well lets go then," he said kissing me again. He handed me my coat and shrugged on his own before tying his scarf.

When we got to my flat, I walked back to my room and went through my closet for my simple black dress and boots. I was not looking forward to wearing it, not in the least. I was glad to know Sherlock was going to be there so I had someone to hold on to. Mary and George could only get me so far and I think because of the fact I they knew Camille made it worse for me. It's hard to explain, but because I didn't tie Camille with Sherlock, the two never having met, it was easier for me to accept the fact I was never going to see her again. I packed up and walked back out to my living room where Sherlock was waiting patiently.

"Ready?" I nodded. "Have anything else you'll need?"

"I'm good. Oh," I said a thought coming, "Would you mind if we stopped by the market? I figured I'd cook something for dinner if that's ok."

"Ok."

"Thanks. One more thing," I said putting down my bag and running back to my room. I grabbed my laptop off my dresser and wrapped up the cord. Depending how long I was going to be at John and Sherlock's, I'd need something to entertain myself with.

"You are sure you have everything now?" Sherlock chuckled as I adjusted the strap for my laptop case on my shoulder.

"Yes."

"Let's go," he chuckled grabbing my bag and putting the strap on his own shoulder. He leaned forward and kissed me gently on the lips before we left my flat. After a quick trip to the market, we were back at his flat. Sherlock resumed his surveillance of his 'mess' while I started cooking dinner. I heard him mumbling to himself a few times, but nothing distinct so I chose to ignore it. As I was chopping the vegetables I had gotten, he almost made me lose a thumb. "HA!"

"Hello, using a sharp object in here!" I yelled out to him. "Doing things that make me jump while doing so is normally not a good idea unless you want me to lose a finger."

"But you didn't," he said back. I heard things bang and rustling of paper. "I'm taking John out after he comes back."

"What about dinner?" I asked standing in the archway to look at him, the knife still in my hand.

"He can eat when he comes back."

"Do you really have to leave right away? It'll be cold by the time you both get back."

"But I figured something out."

"Good for you. You get a cookie." He gave me a weird look. "Dinner will be done soon, I think you can wait until after we've eaten, and yes you're eating too." He glared at me. "Please."

"Fine," he scoffed.

"Thank you. Now refrain from any more loud noises until the knife is in the sink please," I said walking back out to finish dinner.

John came home just as I was draining the pasta. He walked into the flat, saw Sherlock sulking on the couch, "You didn't start shooting the wall again did you?"

"No. I was told no loud, surprising noises while someone is cooking," he grumbled.

"Ah, I thought I smelled something delicious," John said walking out to the living room. "What's for dinner?"

"Um, sautéed veggies over pasta," I said stirring the veggies one last time. "Grab a plate and serve yourself. It's ready."

"Wonderful. I'm starved," he said smiling at me.

I walked out to the living to see Sherlock laying face up on his couch staring at the ceiling. "Foods ready."

"Not hungry."

I crossed my arms across my chest and went to stand over him. I looked down at him and glared, "You are eating."

"That look will only work so often."

"Oh really?" I scoffed. He gave me a small smile before I unfolded my arms and moved to straddle him on the couch. He gave me a bewildered look as I leaned down to kiss him, biting his bottom lip gently in the process. I didn't let it last long before I stopped abruptly and jumped off him.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"You want that to continue, you're eating when I tell you to," I said giving him an evil smile and with a sway of my hips, walked back out to the kitchen to dish out my own plate. John was chewing his food, trying to hide the fact he was blushing. "Alright?"

"Um yea…" he answered. "Were you just trying to seduce him into eating?"

"Yup," I replied. Sherlock stomped out to where we were standing and I smiled at John, "Looks like it worked."

"You're a miracle worker if you ask me," John chuckled.

"Good thing no one is," Sherlock added. "By the way, John, I need your help with something."

"What?" John asked as he started digging into his plate.

"I have to go check something out and I need your assistance."

"What are we checking out?"

"A lead I may have on Charlotte's case."

"I thought Charlie's case was closed?" John asked giving him a confused look.

"There's more to it. I told you, Moran was involved. I might have found a lead but I need to go check it out. I would like if you could assist."

"Fine, yea, whatever," John huffed. "You're just lucky I moved all my appointments for tomorrow already. This isn't going to be a normal thing, right?"

"Why'd you move all your appointments?" I asked, cutting whatever response Sherlock was going to make. He glared at me.

"So I can come to the funeral. Mary said it was tomorrow," he said.

"John, you don't have to. Why is it everyone I just met feels they have to come?" I sighed.

"Because you are a very likeable person and I'm sure that if John does not go, any chance of respect or chance with Mary will go out the window so to speak," Sherlock rattled off. John and I both looked at him. "What?"

"The first part of that may be true, but you really think that low of me that the only reason I would go to a funeral was so I could get off with a girl? Really?"

"You've taken them to the boring cinema already, why not a funeral?" I placed my fork down and turned to look at him.

"Uh Sherlock…" John muttered glancing at me nervously. I could feel my nostrils flaring. Sherlock looked between us seeing the looks on both of our faces.

"Not good?"

"No, not good," John agreed. I sat back in the chair and crossed my arms across my chest. "Apologize."

"John, I don't need you to tell me when to apologize."

"Apparently you do since you still need to point out when you've said something socially inappropriate. If I were you, I would do it soon," John said nodding at me.

"Sorry…" Sherlock said glancing at me quickly.

"Whatever," I huffed pushing away from the table and getting up. I walked back to his room and shut the door, not wanting to be bothered. It was hard to say what I was feeling at this point. I was anxious about the next day and I had been warned about Sherlock's lack of social graces so I shouldn't be as upset as I was about what he said. I knew somewhere in my head that he hadn't meant it like it sounded. I changed into my pajama bottoms and laid back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

The door creaked opened and I turned to look, knowing who it was. Sherlock looked at me, "John and I are leaving."

"Ok."

He walked more into the room, his hands shoved into his pants pockets, "John yelled at me. I told him I warned you about my social graces."

"Yea, I know," I sighed.

"He said you might be upset." I was quiet. "Are you?"

I rolled on my side and looked at him, "To be honest, I'm not sure."

"Ok. I am sorry."

"Sherlock, it's fine," I sighed. "When will you be back?"

"I'm not sure," he sighed. "Depends how long it takes to check up on my thought."

"You going to tell me your thought?"

"Maybe after the funeral, I don't want to upset you anymore than need be. You're going to have a rough enough day tomorrow so as it is."

"You'll be there for it right? You'll be back in plenty of time?"

"I don't see any reason why not," Sherlock replied. He leaned down and kissed me. "Don't do anything dumb while I'm not here to keep an eye on you."

"I think I may just roll over and go to sleep."

"It's early though. Go watch mindless telly at least."

"Ok bossman," I chuckled rolling off the bed. He let me walk by him and smacked me on the rear as I walked by. "Really?"

He smirked at me as he followed me out to the living room. John was waiting with his jacket on.

"Be careful boys," I said as they left. I sat down in Sherlock's chair and curled up, turned on the tv.


	15. Chapter 15

I woke up the next morning in Sherlock's bed, not remembering how I had gotten there. I looked at my phone and saw the time. I had a half hour until George said they'd be picking me up. I hurried into the shower and dried my hair. I decided against any make-up. I slipped on my black dress and checked it as best I could in the mirror. It was a simple A-frame black dress that fell to just below my knees. I grabbed my ankle boots and pulled them on. John was in the living room when I walked out, dressed in a black blazer.

"Morning," John said. I gave him a small smile before looking around the flat. "I'd say good, but considering the circumstances it probably won't be good."

"Where's Sherlock?" I asked ignoring his rambling.

"Lestrade called him when we got back to the flat last night so he's probably finishing up that case. I'm sure he'll meet us over at the cemetery," John huffed. I nodded my head. "I thought he said something to you when he carried you to bed?"

"Hm?" I asked confused. "He carried me to bed last night?"

"Yea," John replied. "You were curled up on the chair."

"Ah, yea, ok. I didn't remember crawling into bed."

"Yea, Sherlock said you were pretty out. He said you normally wake up when he touches you."

"Uh yea, normally. I must've been out." My text alert went off. I took out my phone and looked at it, "Mary and George are here."

"Ok. Ready then?" John asked as he slipped his coat on.

"No, but I'll never be ready," I replied grabbing my coat and slipping it on. We walked down the steps and out the door together. George had the door open to the black car and let us both crawl in the back with Mary while he sat up front. Mary took my hand and squeezed as the driver maneuvered the streets to the cemetery.

The funeral director talked briefly with us before showing us where I could stand or sit at my choosing. At the moment I choose to stand. My head was beginning to fall into its numb state where I was just mainly going through the motions. People started arriving a few minutes later to pay their respects. All the employees from the pub showed up, they weren't many, but they were a loyal crew. All good people. Even Molly and Mrs. Hudson showed up like they said they would. It was hard for me to get words out, so George and Mary did a lot of the talking. Eventually the ceremony started. I looked towards John who shrugged his shoulders at me, knowing why he was getting the look I was giving him. I looked away as I saw him make a face. Mary snapped at him quietly at him for having his phone out.

I did my best to hold it together, but only a few minutes in did I feel the tears start. Mary held my hand as George kept an arm around me. They weren't the comfort I was hoping for, but I was glad for it. It was hard hearing all the good Camille did and how young she had been before having her life taken from her. It was even harder watching her coffin being lowered to the ground. The end of the ceremony couldn't come quick enough. All I wanted after the reminder of Camille's death was to drown my sorrow in a bottle of liquor.

Luckily that came soon. A small group of us went to a pub near the cemetery. I ordered my usual and sat at the table taking large sips often. It wasn't until my third tumbler glass that I noticed Mary giving me looks.

"What?" I snapped.

"Eat something if you're going to drink like that," she said pushing a menu at me.

"Not hungry," I replied ignoring the menu. I noticed George was gone. "Where'd George go?"

"He took Molly and Mrs. Hudson home," John answered.

"Ah."

"Charlie, please just eat a little something, even if its chips," Mary begged.

"Nope, I'm good," I said sipping my drink.

"I'm not dealing with your plastered ass."

"I'm not asking you to."

"Well then we should go."

"Where are we going? Another pub?"

"No. You're going home before you get sick. You had a hard day and drinking is not a solution."

"Actually, technically alcohol is a solution," I giggled smirking at her. She was not amused.

"John, some help here?" Mary growled.

"As much as I love Charlie, she is your friend and I've seen the looks of death she's given Sherlock," John said shaking his head.

"Speaking of which," Mary grumbled. "I'm kicking his ass. Where is he? He should be dealing with this."

"I honestly don't know," I heard John's quiet frustrated reply. I downed the glass and stood up. I pulled my jacket on and stumbled towards the door. I heard Mary curse and both of them get up, John saying he'd pick up the tab. I swayed on the sidewalk as I got my bearings for where I was and started walking in the general direction of my flat. Thank God for the small heel on my boots.

"Where the bloody hell are you going?" I heard Mary snap behind me.

"My flat."

"I thought you were staying with John and Sherlock."

"Not anymore." Mary finally caught up with me and grabbed my arm to stop me from walking. "Mary…"

"Don't Mary me," she grumbled. "Do you forget there is potentially a madman after you?"

"Well I'm a pretty pissed off woman so who do you think is more dangerous?" I said with a smile as John ran up to us.

"John, tell her she is not going back to her flat. She's going back to yours."

"John, tell Mary I don't give a rat's arse who's after me, I'm going to mine," I slurred pulling my arm out of her grip and stumbling down the sidewalk.

"Charlie, I'm going to have to agree with Mary on this," John said rather reluctantly. I continued to stomp off, ignoring both of them. I heard Mary and John talking profusely behind me. I couldn't make out what they were saying and didn't really care at this point. I got to the corner of the block and looked up the street trying to map out which way I needed to go. I saw another pub on the corner and crossed the street and entered. I walked up to the counter and the bartender looked up at me.

"Gin and tonic please, tall glass," I said sliding onto the bar stool.

"It's only two in the afternoon," he replied as he reached for a glass and a bottle.

"You are a brilliant one aren't you? Being able to tell time like that," I grumbled.

"Aren't we sassy this afternoon," he chuckled sliding the glass towards me. "What's the occasion? Boyfriend dump you?"

I rolled my eyes, "No. Sister was buried today and the boyfriend, if that's what we want to call him, right now he's a bit dead to me, was nowhere to be found."

"Ouch. Let me know when you want another," he replied as I threw money on the counter.

"No sir, that's her last," I heard John say to him as he slid onto the stool next to me.

"Boyfriend?" the bartender asked.

I snorted, "No. His flatmate. Who seems to feel the need to intrude in my business since my best friend, who he is shagging by the way, told him to."

"That's your fourth glass of hard liquor this afternoon," John replied. "That's her last one."

"You say so. Just don't break anything," the bartender chuckled walking away.

"Where's Mary?"

"Outside," John answered. "She feels that if she was the one to come in here, there would be screaming."

"Most likely."

"So why all the drinking?"

"You're seriously asking that question?"

"I know, dumb," John chuckled. "Listen, I'm sorry. I don't know where he is. Mycroft doesn't even know where he is and that's unusual."

"Maybe he fell off a building again."

"Charlie," John sighed. "Just come back to the flat. He's an arse and forgets things all the time."

"John, this was a kinda big thing for him to forget don't ya think?" I snapped. "I know he's married to his work and everything, but seriously?" John didn't say anything. "I shouldn't even be upset with him about it, but it just all piled up, all the stress from the last few days you know? He's been there for me the last few days and he can't even be here when I need him the most?"

"I know, believe me, I know," John replied. "For Mary's sake, come back to the flat. I promise I'll give you a sharp object to use on him."

I rolled my eyes and finished my drink before standing up, "Whatever…"

"Well, ok. Let's go grab a cab, yea?"

I huffed as I followed John out of the pub. Mary was standing on the sidewalk waiting for us and flagged down a taxi when she saw us. We rode in silence back to Baker St. The alcohol really started hitting me by the time we got there and I had to walk up the steps. John had to help me. I barely got out of my coat before falling into Sherlock's chair by the fireplace.

"Do you have any alcohol here?" I asked John. John walked toward the kitchen.

"John," Mary snapped, "Don't you dare give her anymore."

"I wasn't going to," John grumbled. "How about some tea?"

"No. Liquor," I spat out as Mary sat down across from me.

"Get her some tea," Mary called to him. I glared at her. "I think four is enough for the day."

"Nope, never enough. I have to kill my liver a little more."

"Charlie, no."

"Mary," I whined. "Why do you always stop me?"

"Because you're upset and you getting drunk when you're upset is not a good idea."

"Well I have good reason to be upset."

"I know you do sweetie," Mary replied. "I know how close you and Cam were."

"The last thing we did was yell at each other," I mumbled as I felt my eyes start to burn, the tears building up.

"I know."

"This really sucks."

"I know."

John came back out and handed me the tea Mary told him to make. I huffed, but took a sip anyway before putting it on the side table.

"Hey," Mary chuckled as John sat next to her on the arm of the chair. "Remember the night Cam had to come close the pub?"

"She was realllllly pissed," I smiled at the memory despite myself.

"What happened?" John asked curiously.

"Charlie and I drank a little too much that night. What'd we do, finish off two bottles of rum?" Mary asked.

"Something like that," I giggled.

"Anyway, Charlie couldn't remember how to close out the till and then managed to lock us out of the office. Cam had to come down in her pajamas with the spare set of keys and open the office back up. She then finished doing all the rest of the closing while Charlie and I finished off the bottle. Didn't she make you go back and open that day?"

"She thought she did," I chuckled. "I talked George into doing it himself and not mentioning it to Camille so I could sleep in."

"Did she ever find out?" John asked.

"Not as far as I know," I replied. "Didn't I get sick too that night?"

"Yea," Mary laughed. "Camille had to clean that up too. I think that's why she made you open the next day. Oh the crap we use to pull on each other."

"Sounds like you had a lot of fun," John said.

"We did," I sighed.

"Still will once the pub's back up and going," Mary added.

"True. Aw crap, I'm going to have to start interviewing…I hate interviews…"

"Let George do it. He'd understand," Mary said. "Personally I don't think you should need to hire anyone. I think they'll be fine. You could just go in earlier if need be."

"We'll see. Got to get it back up and going first," I sighed. We heard footsteps on the stairs and all turned to look at the doorway. Sherlock appeared a few seconds later. "Look who decided to finally show up to the party. That means more drinking!"

"No," Mary snapped.

"Where have you been?" John asked as he kept a grip on Mary.

"The lab," Sherlock answered. "Why?"

"Did you forget what was today?"

Sherlock gave him a confused look before his eyes widened, "Oh…"

"Oh is right," John shook his head.

"How much did she drink?"

"Four glasses of gin and tonic," I answered. "She is in the room and can bitch you out herself thank you very much."


	16. Chapter 16

"Did she eat anything?" Sherlock asked as he slipped off his coat and scarf and hung them up on the door. I glared at him.

"No and I'd watch it if I were you," Mary growled. "She's in her violent drunken mode."

"She has different modes?" John whispered to Mary as I turned my glare on him.

"Yes. I can tell by the look, there's a good chance blood could be spilt," Mary explained. I huffed and curled up in a smaller ball in the chair, pulling my dress over my knees and knocking things off the side table as I did so.

"Would you give us a moment?" Sherlock asked.

"Uh, yea," John said getting up after giving Mary a questioning glance. "We'll get food downstairs and bring it up."

"Thank you," Sherlock said as John and Mary left. Sherlock moved farther into the room. I glared up at him. "Would it help if I said I'm sorry?"

"I don't know yet," I snapped getting up off the chair. I stumbled a bit as I walked into the kitchen. There had to be liquor somewhere in their flat and I was going to find it.

"What are you doing?" he asked patiently.

"Looking for a drink."

"I don't think you should have any more."

"I don't really care what you think right now. Which cabinets hold the alcohols?"

"None. John hasn't been to the store yet to restock since he drank it all." He walked over and placed a hand on my arm, "Charlotte, I'm sorry. I got tied up on the case Lestrade needed a hand with and lost track of time."

"Whatever," I snapped pulling my arm out of his grip. "How are you working cases for the police? You're still legally dead."

"Quietly and discreetly," he answered before placing a hand on either of my arms and holding me in place. "Charlotte, please."

"Please what Sherlock?" I snapped, my words slurring together. "I needed you today and you weren't there. You were out on a case. All I needed was for you to be there and just hold my hand. What am I supposed to do with that? You know what, just forget about it. You warned me this is how it was with you. That nothing mattered over your cases. I don't belong in your life anyway. I'll just take my things and go back to my flat. I-"

"Charlotte, will you shut up," Sherlock growled cutting off my blabbering. "Shut up. I'm sorry. I wanted to be there, I swear I did. I lost track of time and it's unacceptable and I don't blame you in the least for being upset with me. Yes, solving cases is important to me, but I found something just as important and that's you."

"Why? I'm not special. I'm a pub owner with a dead sister."

"Charlotte, I told you to be quiet," he said moving closer to me. I rested my forehead on his chest and started crying. "I'm sorry, I'd say I would promise to never do it again, but I'm sure I'd break it at some point." I let out a wet snort before lifting my head up to look at him. "Have I told you, you look beautiful when you cry?"

"No I don't," I said wiping some of the wetness from my cheeks. "I get all splotchy and gross."

"As John always tells me, just say thank you."

I rolled my eyes, "I'm still mad."

"I know," he sighed reaching up to wipe a stray tear away. "Are you going to eat something when John and Mary come back up?"

"I don't want to, but you're going to make me so why are you asking?"

"So I can prepare myself for how difficult you're going to be."

"I could just be difficult now for the fun of it, just to spite you of course."

"Of course," he chuckled. I played with the wet spot I had left on his shirt.

"Did you solve the case at least?" I asked quietly.

"Yes. Lestrade was pleased."

"That's good."

"How was the ceremony?" he asked.

"Nice. George did good," I replied my voice cracking. "All the employees from the pub were there and a bunch of her friends. Molly and Mrs. Hudson came as well."

"Ah."

"Can you unzip my dress?" I asked turning around. "I want to go change." He moved my hair to one side, his fingers skimming lightly over my skin. He pulled the zipper down and pressed his lips against the corner of my shoulder and neck. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." I turned to walk back towards the bedroom to change, wobbling a little and bumping into the table. "Are you sure you can manage walking?"

"I'm drunk, not crippled," I muttered.

"You sure you'll be able to undress yourself?" he called as I walked down the hall.

"I'm drunk, not crippled," I yelled back.

"You don't know when to accept help do you?"

"I know what kind of help you're implying, sir," I yelled.

"The problem?" he laughed.

"I don't need that kind of help. Remember I'm still pissed at you!"

"I can be very convincing," he said from the doorway. I glared at him before letting my dress fall to the ground. I went to step out of it and got my left shoe caught on the shoulder strap causing me to fall forward onto the bed. "Are you sure you don't need help?"

I took off one of my shoes and threw it at him, completely missing. I threw myself backwards onto the bed as he watched me with an amused expression on his face. I fixed my fallen down bra strap, "Just threw me a stupid shirt and my sweats please."

"Of course." A few seconds later a t-shirt was thrown onto my face. I pulled it off as Sherlock lifted my left leg up and slipped it into my sweatpants. He did the same thing for my right after taking off my other shoe. Next he grabbed my hands and pulled me up off the bed to stand, keeping one arm around me and pulled my pants up with the other. "See, I can help you put clothes on too."

"Smart arse," I muttered as he picked up me shirt and pulled it over my head and planting a kiss on my lips. I smiled despite myself as I slipped my arms into the arm holes and pulled my shirt down. "Excuse me, I need the bathroom."

"Be my guest," he said moving so I could stumble by him. "You're not going to fall again are you?"

"Shut up," I said grabbing my brush off the counter in the bathroom.

"At least I won't have to take you all the way to Emergency. John would be able to stitch you up when he comes back." I finished putting my hair up into a ponytail and walked into the doorway. I glared at him as he smiled at me and then whipped my hair brush at him. This one hit it's mark.

"Oh my God, are you ok?" I asked trying not to giggle. He was bent over holding the right side of his face.

"I think I'll live. Mary was right about that look wanting to spill blood."

"Stop making fun of my drunk ass and you won't get hurt," I laughed walking up to him. "Let me see."

"It's alright," he replied rolling his eyes. I grabbed the hand he was holding to his cheek and pulled it down to reveal a red mark. I reached up with my other hand and poked it. "Damn you woman, don't poke it. Is that what you do? Poke things to examine them? It's no wonder you're not a neurosurgeon."

For that comment, I smacked the spot I just poked and walked back out to the kitchen. Stumbled was more like it, not to mention bumping into the wall a few times. There were footsteps on the stairs and John and Mary walked into the kitchen.

"I see you managed to change," Mary chuckled. I walked up to her and wrapped my arms around her neck.

"That's cuz I lub you," I giggled.

"Oh great," Mary groaned. "We've moved from violent mode to clingy-lovey mode."

"Shut up," I said smacking her. Sherlock walked out rubbing his cheek.

"What happened to you?" John asked once Sherlock moved his hand and started going through the bag of food.

"Someone threw a hair brush at me," Sherlock grumbled.

"And a shoe, but I missed," I giggled. "Second times the charm."

"Why were you throwing things?" Mary chuckled. "Not that I don't think he deserved it though."

"He was making fun of me."

"Because you were giving me reason to make fun of you," he replied. "Now are you going to eat or is one of us force feeding you?"

"I'm not hungry," I said letting go of Mary and crossing my arms over my chest.

"I do believe it will be three against one," he replied. "You're better off giving in."

"Whatever," I grumbled walking past them and out to the living room. I plopped myself onto their couch. A few seconds later Sherlock walked over and handed me a plate of chips and a sandwich. I rolled my eyes and grabbed a chip and chumbled on it. He gave me a satisfied smirk before sitting down next to me with his own plate. I ate in silence while everyone talked around me. When I was done, I placed my plate on the coffee table and curled up next to Sherlock and closed my eyes.

"Charlotte, wake up," I heard the low familiar voice say. I moaned and snuggled into him a little more. "Charlotte, Mary is threatening to dump water on you if you don't get up and get to bed. I can't exactly move with the way you're lying on me."

At that I sat myself up, trying to cover up the yawn that was escaping. My head was still fuzzy, but at least I felt like I had better coordination than I had earlier. I ran my hand over my hair before taking out my ponytail and redoing it. Mary had come over to stand in front of me and held out a glass of water and two white pills.

"Drink and take," she ordered. I rolled my eyes at her and held out my hands, doing what I was told. "Good, now off to bed."

"Since when are you my mother?" I grumbled.

"Since you decided it's fun to torture me with your shitfaced antics."

I let out a sigh and pushed myself up off the couch and after saying goodnight to her and John, walked back to Sherlock's room to crawl under the blankets and go back to sleep.

I woke up with a jolt, sitting up in bed and panting as I tried to catch my breath as my heart pounded in my chest. I stared terrified at the wall as I tried to get my head to understand the nightmare wasn't real and that I was safe where I was.

"Charlotte?" I heard Sherlock ask next to me as I felt the bed move. "Charlotte, are you ok?"

"I-I-I-" He sat up next to me and placed a hand on my arm as I tried to stutter out a response.

"Charlotte, you're shaking. What's wrong?" I couldn't get myself to talk. He scooted closer to me and placed a hand gently on my face to turn it so he could look me in the eye. "You had a nightmare." I didn't reply. I let myself fall forward into his chest, pressing my ear up against him so I could hear his heart beating and assure myself that he was in fact still alive. He wrapped his arms around me and leaned back to lay back down, keeping me against him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"J-just let me go a second," I stammered out. I placed a hand on his chest next to my head so I could not only hear his heart, but feel it beating. "You're ok?"

"Of course I'm ok."

"You're not hurt or anything?"

"Other than the spot where a rogue hairbrush hit me, I can assure you I'm quite alright. I take it I was not ok in your dream though."

I shook my head, "No, you weren't."

"What happened?"

I moved to rest my chin on his chest so I could look at his face, "Someone was after us and you got shot."

"Well I cannot assure that someone isn't after us, but I can assure you I have not been shot."

"I held you while your life slipped away…"

"Charlotte, I am perfectly fine," he said reaching up to grab the hand I had on his chest.

"You died and left me, just like everyone else in my life."

"I'm not going to leave you," he breathed.

"You can't promise that."

"Charlotte."

"Everything I love and care about ends up leaving me." I felt him tense up slightly. "First my parents, then my ex, my sister was killed and my pub set on fire." I was close to hysterics at this point, Sherlock tightening his grip on me so I couldn't sit back up. "Mary's the only constant I've had in my life an one day she's not even going to be there. I'm sick of losing things. I'm sick of it."

"Charlotte, I'm not leaving you," Sherlock said wrapping both arms around me. "Mary's not leaving. No one else is going to abandon you. I won't let that happen."

"You can't guarantee it though," I sniffled as tears started escaping.

"Nothing in life is a guarantee, but we can do our best to keep it constant."

"I don't know what I'll do if something happens to you."

"Charlotte, nothing is going to happen," he said rubbing my back. I nodded my head and curled into him, not wanting to continue blabbering on. I closed my eyes and let out a shaky breath, trying to calm myself back down. He must've thought I'd fallen back asleep. I felt him kiss the top of my head and whisper something. I smiled to myself a little, but continued to feign sleep.


	17. Chapter 17

Sherlock accompanied me to the pub to meet with George and the insurance adjuster. I used my key to open the front door and let us in. The front of the house was still intact, in not just smelling of smoke. The whole kitchen would need to be redone. Some of the equipment might be ok, but we wouldn't know until I had people in to look at it. The insurance agent said that thankfully because of the police report, they would cover most of the damage, at least at cost. Any other upgrades or extra, we would come out of my own pockets. At this point I was thankful for the fact Camille had put the rest of her money into the pub.

George gave me a big grin after the insurance adjustor left, "See, I told you it wouldn't be that bad."

"I know," I sighed. "I'm glad the office wasn't touched. I'm going to go grab the folder we have the numbers in for the kitchen people. Do you want to get together with Max to decide which equipment you guys want to cook on?"

"Can do sweetheart. We needed a new fryer anyway," he chuckled.

"Since when?" I asked confused.

"A few weeks now. I talked to Camille about it, she was supposed to be taking care of it. I'll give Max a call then," George said pulling out his phone. I huffed as I got up out of my seat and walked back to the office. Sherlock followed me and leaned in the doorway as I pulled down the binder and started flipping through it.

"You ok?"

"Hm?" I asked not paying attention.

"You seemed a tad angry."

"Irritated if anything," I huffed.

"It makes you mad that no one told you about the fryer. They always went to Camille with problems, completely forgetting about you."

"Pretty much. Max doesn't like me so anytime there's an issue he goes to George who then goes to Camille."

"Have you ever talked to them about it?"

"Of course. Max just gives me attitude and does what he wants."

"And you can't get rid of him because he's your best cook."

"Bingo." I found the number and called from my cell phone. Lucky for me they had someone that could drop off a catalogue and come check out the damage of the equipment. George was peeking around Sherlock by this point. "They're having someone stop by to assess the equipment."

George nodded, "Max said he'd be more than willing to help."

"Good. Call him back and tell him to get his ass in here," I grumbled not looking forward to dealing with the attitude. "I want this all taken care of as soon as possible."

"Do you want Billy as well?"

"If you feel we need him," I sighed. "You boys are going to be the ones using it."

George nodded and walked away to make his phone calls. I reached up and grabbed two notepads and pens and handed a set to Sherlock. He raised an eyebrow in confusion, "What's this?"

"You're helping me to do inventory before I throw stuff out."

"Am I now?"

"Yes," I replied. "I know it's a bit beneath your keen deductive skills, but I'd love it if you could help."

"What's in it for me?" he asked. I jumped off the stool and stood up on my toes to kiss him.

"You'll just have to wait until later," I giggled.

"Maybe I don't want to wait until later," he said quietly, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me in closer. He leaned down and pressed his lips to mine before deepening the kiss.

"Sherlock, I have work that needs to get done," I mumbled as he continued to kiss me. He sighed and gave me one last peck on the lips before pulling away. "Later, ok?"

"If you insist," he sighed. I smacked him with the notepad as I walked by him.

"George," I called, "We're gonna start inventory if you want to see what we can get cleaned up."

"Sounds terrific," George replied. "Billy said he'll be here in five and Max said he'll get here when he gets here."

"Sounds like Max," I grumbled. "At least Billy will be able to help."

"Correction, at least Billy will help," George chuckled.

"Truth," I sighed. I showed Sherlock where I needed him to start counting. I walked over to a different shelf system and started counting the dry goods that were all getting thrown as George started sweeping debris and ash towards the door. Billy came bounding through the very same door a few minutes later.

"Charlie!" he shouted hopping over to me. For only being a few years younger than me, he still acted like he was a young teen instead of 24. He gave me a hug. I noticed Sherlock watching from where he was counting dishes.

"Hey Billy," I chuckled as Sherlock's eyes narrowed.

"I know I said it yesterday, but I'm sorry about Cami and the pub."

"I know Billy, thank you."

"Ok boss, where do you need me?" he asked clapping his hands together.

"Um, let's get all the dishes out on the bar," I said putting the notepad down and walking over to where Sherlock was. He was watching us. "This is Billy, one of my cooks."

"Hiya mate," Billy said giving Sherlock a big grin. He returned with a small smile.

"Just tell Billy what you've counted already and Billy can carry it out to the bar to be looked over later." I left them to it, hoping Sherlock wouldn't be his normal self. "George, is there a waste can anywhere?"

"Yea," George said propping the broom against the wall. He wheeled over one of the waste buckets that had survived. He fixed the bag that was in it before going back to sweeping. "Hey, some of the counter top may be salvageable. Just needs a good scrubbing is all."

"Gotta love stainless steel…" I shook my head. "We'll see what the professionals say. We may have to replace it all anyway with food safety and all."

"Yea. Well so far it looks like the fryers're shot and the stoves. The vents are going to need a wicked good cleaning. Between them and the fire department, that's what saved the place."

"How's the electrical aspect?"

"Already called electrician," George said. "Did that Monday cuz I know how long it takes 'em to come in. They'll be here tomorrow to survey the damage."

"The gas was shut off I take it?" George nodded. "What about the plumbing?"

"Should be alright, but they'll be here tomorrow too."

"Good. Thanks George."

"No problem kiddo."

"Bloody hell how are you supposed to see in this place?" came a snide voice from the doorway.

"Taking your sunglasses off would help," George said as I rolled my eyes. "Glad you could make it Max."

"Not getting paid sitting at home now am I?" was his reply. I bit my tongue and pulled stuff I just counted off the shelf and into the can. Max knew how to get on my nerves. "And look at that, boss is even here doing work. I thought you just drank for a living."

"No Max, you're getting the two of us confused again," I grumbled trying to keep my voice steady.

"Aw Max, don't be like that," Billy said as he walked by with an arm full of plates.

"Be like what? We're the ones who do all the work in this shithole," he said back to Billy. I clenched my jaw at his comment. A hand gently squeezed my shoulder. I looked up to see Sherlock watching me. I rolled my eyes and went back to counting.

"Phone?" he said quietly enough for me to hear him. I handed it to him with a questioning look. He ignored and walked back to grab some plates and followed Billy back out to the bar.

"Who's that?" Max snapped.

"Don't worry about him Max, just a helping hand," George thankfully answered for me. "Grab a broom and help me sweep up. The equipment guy should be here shortly.

"Whatever," he growled grabbing the broom George had been using. I finished cleaning off the shelves and helped Billy with the dishes. Sherlock had disappeared. When Billy realized I was helping now instead. He stopped me at the bar.

"Charlie, do you know who that is that was helping?"

"Yes Billy," I chuckled. "I would hope I know who he is."

"That's so cool," Billy smiled. "Where'd you meet him? I thought he offed himself."

"Long story Billy. Where is he anyway?"

"Ah, Mr. Holmes said he had to make a phone call," Billy said with a wink.

"Did he say to who?"

"No," Billy said after a thought. "He was asking me a bunch of questions about Max though."

"Oh great…Why do I have a feeling I'm gonna need a new cook?" I rubbed my head. "Did he say where he was going to make this phone call?"

"Nope. Just said to keep an eye on you," Billy shrugged. "Think we'll have the pub back up soon?"

"I hope so," I replied. I checked my office and the rest of the front of the house. Sherlock was nowhere to be found. I stopped Billy at the bar, "Billy, could I borrow your mobile?"

"Sure, where's yours?" He asked handing me his phone.

"I gave it to Sherlock, but he seems to have disappeared with it."

"That was nice of him," Billy chuckled. "These were the last dishes. What else do you need me to do?"

"Um," I paused to think. "Let's wait to do the freezer and cooler until we have electric back so we can see in there. Are the equipment guys here?"

"Yea."

"Then help George and Max out." He pouted at me. "Listen, I don't like him any more than you do. If he starts yelling at you, just start cleaning something. I trust your judgment more than his so I want you in there listening."

"Yes mum," he sighed walking back into the kitchen.

I walked into the office for privacy and dialed my number into Billy's. It rang a few times before it was picked up.

"You noticed I left quicker than I thought you would," Sherlock chuckled into the other end.

"Where are you?"

"Checking something."

"Like what?"

"You'll find out."

I growled, "Am I going to need a new cook?" He disconnected the line. I resisted the urge to scream in frustration. I walked back into the kitchen and handed Billy his mobile back without Max or George seeing. George noticed I was there and introduced me to the two men who had shown up. About an hour later, Billy's phone started ringing. He pulled it out after a nod from me, he answered it.

"Hold on," he said walking back over. "It's for you."

I rolled my eyes, knowing who it was, "Yes?"

"Are all of you still there? Short answers please."

"Yes," I grumbled.

"Good, keep them there. We'll be there in ten minutes."

Before I could ask who 'we' was, he had hung up on me, again. I clenched my jaw in annoyance and handed Billy back his phone. Billy gave me a confused look, but I just shook my head at him.

Ten minutes later, I found out who 'we' was. Sherlock walked into the kitchen a few minutes after the equipment guys had left, Behind him was Lestrade.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on now?" I asked frustrated.

"Of course my dear," he said with a smirk. "Detective Inspector, I believe our shooter is right there."

We all turned and looked to who Sherlock was pointing to.


	18. Chapter 18

"Who the bloody hell are you?" Max spat.

"George, please hold on to Charlie," Sherlock advised. George and Billy both moved, George to stand next to me and Billy to stand by the doorway to bar and front of the house.

"Sherlock, what's going on?" I asked not liking the feeling I was getting.

"Max Cooper, I need you to come to the Yard for questioning," Lestrade said stepping forward.

"In regards to what?" Max snarled, taking a step back.

"The murder of Camille Briggs." I froze. I looked at Max who had turned white as a sheet. "You can either come down of your own accord, or I can handcuff you."

"I-I don't know what you're talking-"

"Oh Mr. Cooper, let's not play this game," Sherlock drawled. "Camille was murdered by someone she knew. The murderer came to the back door, only someone who knows the person they are visiting would they come to the back door. And we know this because there was no sign of forced entry. She willingly opened the door before you fired. And how do we know it was you? I ran a quick background check on you. Dishonorable discharge from the army, on which you served in the same squadron as Sebastian Moran. You've also just recently acquired a large sum of money in your bank account. And there's also the fact that the weapon used to shoot Camille is still in your flat, uncleaned and covered with prints. Very sloppy."

Billy and George were in too much shock to notice the fact I had picked up a frying pan off the counter I was standing next to. I stepped forward and before even Sherlock could stop me, I swung.

"George, you were supposed to restrain her!" Sherlock groaned. I stood over Max's crumpled form, seething. Sherlock walked up to me and wedged the pan out of my hand, "Charlotte, let go. Lestrade will take care of him, just let go."

"How long did you know?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"I didn't until he was here and I talked to Billy," Sherlock replied. "He had the same tattoo as Moran, and only those loyal to him that served with him in the army got them."

"That damn son of a bitch," I growled.

"Lestrade?" Sherlock said when he saw I wasn't calming down any.

"I have people coming," Lestrade said pulling handcuffs out and bending down to handcuff Max's hands together. I was still seething. I moved forward to kick him or something, hoping to make myself feel better, but Sherlock grabbed me around the waist and held me tight. I glared up at him.

"They're not coming quick enough," Sherlock advised.

"Well do something with her. Lock her in her office or something," Lestrade snapped. "My force hasn't invested in flying cars yet."

"Billy," George said looking over at Billy. "Better get her a drink."

"George, I don't want alcohol. I want to beat the living daylights out of him," I growled trying to get out of Sherlock's grip, which he only tightened. "Sherlock, let me go!"

"No." He picked me and carried me out of the kitchen, Billy holding the door open for him as he took me to the bar and sat me on a bar stool. "Stay."

"You can't make me."

"Do not challenge me for you will lose."

"Sherlock, he shot Camille! He's the one who pulled the trigger on my sister!" I cried, I could feel angry tears start building.

"I know," he said placing his hands on my arms and kissing my forehead. "I know. I'm sorry. Let the police take care of him. Don't go seeking vengeance."

"Come on Charlie," Billy said sliding a glass of clear liquid over to me, "Cami wouldn't want you getting yourself in trouble. Let the professionals handle this."

I closed my eyes in frustration and reached out to grab the glass. Sherlock seemed satisfied I wasn't going to move and after a quick word exchange with Billy, went back into the kitchen. I slowly sipped the tequila Billy had given me, making a face at him.

"What, there's no power to make your gin and tonic and the scotch is gone," Billy chuckled knowing my preferred drinks.

"There's a bottle I keep in the office, you could have gotten that."

"Well I didn't know there was a hidden bottle in the office now did I?" Billy replied. "Now what's going on?"

I took another sip, "Tony contacted some bloke named Moran, who then contracted Max there to take a hit on my sister so Tony could cash in on the insurance money. Little did he know, all Camille's insurance money comes to the pub after funeral costs and when he found this out, he tried to burn the pub down."

"So that's what Holmes was trying to tell me…"

"Probably," I said taking another sip. "I hate tequila."

"You drink every other hard liquor, but can't drink tequila?" Billy laughed. "You're strange boss."

"So I'm told," I sighed.

"Are you seeing Holmes?"

"What?" I asked completely off guard.

"Are you seeing Holmes?" Billy repeated giving me a serious look.

"Sort of I guess," I said rolling my eyes. "Why?"

"Just curious."

"What would it take for you to let me go back in that room?" I asked looking into the bottom of the glass.

"Nothing." I sat up hopeful for the chance to hurry in there before they took the bastard away. "Don't you dare. I say nothing because what Holmes threatened me with doesn't come with a topping price."

"What?"

Billy laughed, "Meaning, there's nothing out there that would surpass what Holmes threatened to do to me if I let you off that stool."

"Oh," I replied, shoulders drooping. I took another sip, not liking the tequila, but drinking it anyway.

"You gotta think though, don't you feel better knowing two-thirds of the people responsible for Camille are gone?" I glared up at Billy. "Sorry…sore spot either way."

"Yup." Sherlock stuck his head through the door as a loud voices started yelling back and forth. "Yes I'm still sitting in the same place you stuck me."

"I knew that," he grumbled, "here."

He threw me my phone which was currently ringing. I caught it, "What? You can steal my phone, but not take the liberty of answering it?" He disappeared without an answer, the door shutting off the noise in the kitchen behind him. I rolled my eyes as Billy guffawed. I pressed the answer button on my phone when it continued to ring, "Hello?"

"What is my darling brother getting up to?"

"Why hello Mycroft, nice to hear from you I guess," I said leaning back on the stool to lean up against the bar.

"Yes, yes. What is Sherlock doing?"

"Besides not letting me beat the crap out of the guy who pulled the trigger on my sister?"

"Miss Brennan," he huffed into the phone, "I am not playing games. I've heard of the mess my brother is causing and unless he wishes for a press conference detailing the fact he faked his own death, he will stop what he's doing."

"Mr. Holmes," I mocked the tone he used when he had said my name, "Please make a note somewhere that I am not your brother's personal secretary, nor am I in charge or have control over his actions."

"You do not seem to grasp the repercussions of his actions."

"Honestly, I don't really care at this point."

"Well than put him on and I will tell him myself."

"You know, you wouldn't have to use me as your own personal answering service if you would just do what he asked and get rid of his death certificate so he can get his own damn phone back." There was no answer on the other end, just silence as he waited. I rolled my eyes and moved my phone away from my ear. I looked at Billy who had been watching with an amused expression on his face, "Can you go get Sherlock please?"

A minute later, Sherlock walked in, held out his hand and hit the call end button on my phone. "Finish your drink, we're leaving."

"Um, why?"

"Because Donovan is about to burst an aneurism and Lestrade thinks its best we leave," Sherlock said grabbing my hand and pulling me off the stool. "George said he'll lock up and will meet you back here tomorrow. Let's go."

"Sherlock, hold up," I said trying to plant my feet as he tried to pull me to the door.

"Charlotte, I will carry you through the door if I must," he said through gritted teeth. I narrowed my eyes at him. "Please."

"That's better," I rolled my eyes. "I'll see you in here tomorrow Billy?"

"Yea sure, Charlie," Billy nodded. "Good luck with her, mate."

Sherlock gave him a small smile as he tugged my hand again. I followed him out the door and onto the street where he turned and walked towards my flat.

"Where are we going?" I asked, stumbling on the uneven pavement.

"Home."

"I really think we should go get some food," I said. He stopped and looked at me, giving me a curious look. "What?"

"I believe this is the first time you openly requested eating of your own accord. What were you drinking?"

"Why does what I was drinking have anything to do with me being hungry?"

"Because whatever it was I don't think is agreeing with you," he said with a smirk. I rolled my eyes.

"Tequila…" I muttered.

"You had a bad experience which has since ruined it for you."

"You could say that. I just prefer my gin and whiskey thank you much. Now food please, something fried preferably."

"As you wish."

We stopped at the pub down the street and ordered food. Sherlock watched me dig into my fish and chips with enthusiasm, a small smile on his face.

"What?" I asked when I noticed he was paying more attention to me than to his own food.

"I would have thought you'd be more freaking out then what you are."

"Do you want me to?"

"Not particularly."

"Then shut up about it." He chuckled at me shaking his head and eating his food. "So why exactly did we have to leave?"

Sherlock sighed, "Sgt. Donavan was not pleased to see me. She is of reason to believe that I am responsible for the cases the last few months I was alive. That I got bored and made them all up, including Moriarty. She was one of the ones that pushed the idea at the Yard."

"Oh. Now what?"

"I wait for Lestrade to call me, well, call you."

"Speaking of calling me, you know that was your brother that was on the phone?"

"I knew, I did not care to speak with him." I cocked my head at him. "Fine, what did he want?"

"To tell you to knock off whatever it was you were doing unless you wanted the end result being a press conference on your sudden reappearance."

"Humph."

"Also, I am not your personal secretary so next time you receive a phone call, your taking your own messages."

"If you say so," he said with a ghost of a smile. "Finished?"

"Yea."

Sherlock nodded before getting up and paying our tab. I got up out of the chair and put my jacket on and I followed him out the door. There was a black car with tinted windows outside and a young woman standing next to it, a blackberry in her hand. Sherlock stopped walking and reached out an arm in front of me.


	19. Chapter 19

"Anthea…" he growled.

"Afternoon. Get in please," the woman said walking around the front of the car to get in on the passenger seat. I looked up at Sherlock who rolled his eyes and walked up to the car. He opened the back door and motioned for me to get in. I gave him a confused look as I crawled in, unsure of what was going on. He got in next to me and shut the door, immediately reaching for my hand.

"Sherlock…"

"We're being summoned," he huffed. "My brother."

Ten minutes later the black car pulled up outside the Diogenes club. Sherlock got out and held the door open for me as the woman tutted from the front. He took my hand and led me in, pulling me behind him. He led me into the club and back to another room where his brother sat at a desk waiting for us. He seemed surprised when he saw me walk in behind Sherlock.

"She's not supposed to be with you," Mycroft muttered folding the newspaper up and setting it on the desk.

"I go where she goes. I was with her when you summoned me," Sherlock snarled the word summoned. "And I was not leaving her alone. What do you want?"

"Did Miss Brennan give you my message?"

"Yes so I don't know why you needed to see me," Sherlock drawled motioning me to sit down on the chair across from Mycroft.

"Since you don't know when to keep a low profile, we have no choice but to hold a press release that your back."

"And what exactly do you plan on telling them? You can't seriously think they'll believe I had to go under the radar in order to complete some sort of secret government mission."

"You seem to forget how gullible people are," Mycroft replied with a roll of his eyes. "Not to mention, regardless, that's what we're telling them."

"Must we seriously make an announcement? It doesn't have to be public knowledge, just tell the ones who need to know."

"Which in your mind would be no one." Sherlock's mouth twitched. "At least let me send an official notice to Scotland Yard. We'll leave the press quiet on this if you wish."

"I do."

"Of course once they figure out your alive and with a girlfriend, that'll make up for everything," Mycroft smirked.

"What does everyone insist on putting their noses into my romantic life?"

"Because you in fact, now have a romantic life." Sherlock growled as he stomped to the door. "Where are you going?"

"We're leaving," he snapped. "Come now Charlotte."

"Stop being dramatic," Mycroft ordered. "You do things without thinking of the consequences so it's really your own fault. There's no point getting grumpy with me about it."

"Charlotte."

I gave Mycroft an apologetic smile before getting up to follow Sherlock.

"Be careful," Mycroft called to both of us. "Both of you. Moran is paying closer attention than you think he is dear brother."

Sherlock ushered me out of the room and thus out of the building. The black car that brought us was nowhere to be found. Sherlock just kept on walking up the sidewalk in what I was hoping was the direction of their flat. I caught up with him by the time we got to the corner and slipped my hand into his.

"He's right," Sherlock said quietly. "I hate saying it, but he's right about Moran."

I looked up at him, "Then we'll just have to be careful like he said, won't we?"

"It's bigger than that Charlotte," he replied. "But yes, careful. Especially you. I can't lose you."

"Ok," was all I could reply seeing his mask slip away and letting the worry show for a fraction of a second before it was hidden away again. He hailed a cab and opened the door for me to get in.

John was home from his job at the clinic by the time we made it back. "Where were you two?"

"Sherlock was getting my head cook arrested," I said taking my jacket off and handed it to Sherlock to hang up.

"Excuse?" John stammered.

"Charlotte's cook at the pub was the one Moran contracted to kill her sister," Sherlock said giving a brief explanation to John as I went out to their kitchen for a glass of water.

"Well that's a good thing then right Charlie?" John said.

"Sore spot, John," Sherlock replied. "Doesn't bring Camille back."

"Right. Mary and I are going out," John said. "Would you two want to join us? Turn it into a double date?"

"Charlotte?" Sherlock called.

"If it's ok, maybe next time," I said walking out to the living room. "I've had a long day, well long week to be exact."

"Not to mention you didn't sleep well last night," Sherlock added.

"Ok," John said. "That's fine with me. Last time Sherlock went on one of my dates, he got in a fight."

"You're the one who took your date to the circus run by the Chinese Mafia," Sherlock retorted.

"You suggested it and then invited yourself along," John said.

"You two fight like an old married couple," I giggled. John turned and glared at me. "Yes, I know you're not. Trust me, I know."

"Speaking of," Sherlock said walking up to me and wrapping an arm around me and pulling me close, "We have that payment to discuss."

"Oi, no payment in the living room," John yelled making me giggle as Sherlock made a face. "Dear lord, you've created a monster."

"I did no such thing," I laughed. "He did it himself."

"I don't want to know," John said firmly. John's phone went off, "Oh thank…Hi Mary." Sherlock started kissing the spot on my neck under my ear as John talked in the background. John hung up a few minutes later and grabbed his jacket.

"Are you coming back tonight?" Sherlock asked innocently. By his tone I could tell he was deliberately trying to get on John's nerves.

"Probably not," John answered. He gave Sherlock a sharp look. "That doesn't mean things need to happen outside of your room." Sherlock gave him an innocent look like he didn't know what John was talking about. I peeled myself out of Sherlock's grip and started straightening the kitchen.

"Tell Mary I said hello," I said to John trying not to giggle at the looks the two men were exchanging silently. "Have fun."

"Yea, thanks," John said buttoning up his coat. "Don't make me have to have the talk with you Sherlock."

"Laters," Sherlock said giving John a smirk as he left.

I removed the dishes from inside the sink and started filling it with soapy water. I felt warm hands slip around my waist and a chin rest on my shoulder. I smiled to myself as I started scrubbing dishes.

"You don't have to do dishes," Sherlock said in my ear. "Mrs. Hudson can do them."

"She's not your house keeper," I replied. "Besides, I don't mind. If you're going to want me to stay here, then I'm going to clean.

"Then it can wait until later."

"I already started," I chuckled. "Go find something to amuse yourself with for a bit."

"You don't know how hard of a task that is you're asking," he grumbled.

"I trust your brilliant mind will think of something."

"It already has, you are just not cooperating," he mumbled sulking away to the living room.

"Watch TV," I suggested.

"Boring."

"Clean up your mess out there."

"Boring and I'm not done with that mess."

"Then work on finding Moran so you can clean up your mess."

"It's not a matter of finding him, it's a matter of waiting for him to make a move," he drawled as I heard a chair scrape. "Maybe Lestrade will let me help interrogate Max. Give me your phone."

"If Lestrade needed your help, I'm sure he would have let you stay at the pub instead of kicking you out. Thanks by the way."

"For what? Catching your sister's killer or arresting your cook?"

"Both, though I feel a tad bit more sarcastic about the latter."

"Billy will step up perfectly fine. He's eager and capable."

"That's why he was hired."

"Charlotte, I'm bored," he whined.

"Is this what you do?" I giggled. "Whine and complain like a little kid? It's no wonder Molly got sick of you." I heard him huff, but he didn't answer. "Give me twenty minutes and I'll be done."

"Just do it later," he moaned.

"I already started and I'm not stopping in the middle of doing something. It's in my nature."

"Lies. Your nature is to be the frustrating woman that you are."

"I'm going to ignore that," I muttered.

"Ignoring doesn't make it not true."

"Yes, but it keeps you out of trouble and uninjured."

"That's never stopped you before. I believe a hairbrush was involved last time."

"It also gets you laid, now shut up before I scrub your whole flat. Trust me, I could make it take all night." I heard him mutter something, but couldn't make out what his response was. I chose to ignore it. I went about the mindless task of scrubbing the dishes and setting them on the drying rack next to the sink. I then made the mistake of looking at the stove and saw the grates needed to be cleaned. I glanced quickly out to the living room and saw no sign of Sherlock in immediate view. I grabbed the grates and set them in the sink quickly without making too much noise and then grabbed a wet washcloth and started cleaning the top of the stove off.

"It's been twenty-five minutes, are you done?" I heard him ask from the archway into the kitchen.

"In a minute," I answered. We heard footsteps on the stairs.

"Hello? Anyone home?"

"Mrs. Hudson, you really do come at the most inappropriate times," Sherlock growled. I turned and glared at him as he made a grumpy face at me.

"Am I interrupting something?" the older woman asked as she appeared in the door.

I cut over Sherlock, "No, not at all. Someone's just throwing a temper tantrum like a six year old. How are you Mrs. Hudson?"

"Hips bothering me a bit, but other than that I'm quite good," she replied.

"Good. Mrs. Hudson, tell Charlotte that you can take care of the cleaning," Sherlock said.

"I'm your landlady, not your housekeeper," Mrs. Hudson replied.

"Sherlock, I can do the cleaning no problem," I rolled my eyes. "Stop being impatient. If you act like a child, I'm going to treat you like one." He glared at me before stomping off to his bedroom. "I'd swear, the way he acts sometimes, you wouldn't think he was a full grown man."

"They never really grow up," Mrs. Hudson laughed waving her hands . "I just wanted to check and see if they needed milk in the fridge. I'm making my list for the market tomorrow and figured I'd pick up for them if they need it."

"Be my guest," I replied grabbing a towel and drying the grates before placing them back on the stove. "In fact, let me know if I need to clean in there as well. I'll do that next just to get on his nerves."

"You will not," Sherlock snapped from the hall. Mrs. Hudson winked at me as I gave him an evil smile. "You said all you were doing were the dishes."

"My cleaning spree is getting the better of me so I might just have to do the whole kitchen," I smirked.

"No."

"I'll pick up milk and eggs," Mrs. Hudson said closing the door as Sherlock glared at me.

"What time are you going? I'll go with you," I said drying my hands and wiping the water from around the sink.

"Nine or so."

"Ok. I'll meet you downstairs then," I said with a smile. "Maybe we can stop for coffee?"

"Sounds wonderful," Mrs. Hudson smiled. "Don't let him boss you now."

"Oh no worries," I giggled as he rolled his eyes. Mrs. Hudson went back downstairs after saying goodnight. Sherlock waited until we heard her door close before walking over and grabbing the towel out of my hand. "Can I help you?"

"You are done," he breathed.

"Am I now?"

"Yes."

"Says who?" I asked blinking innocently up at him. He growled at me before he leaned down, his lips crashing down on my own as his hands lifted me up to sit on the counter. "You really must learn patience."

"You must learn when to be quiet," he responded as he continued to kiss me, moving along my jaw line and down my neck as his hands moved under my shirt. I wrapped my arms around his neck.

"Never gonna happen," I giggled.

"Seems like we both have some faults then don't we?"

"Seems so." His lips moved back to meet mine. "Might I propose we retire to the bedroom?"

"What's wrong with right here?" he breathed as he took a moment to remove my shirt.

"While I have no problem shagging in your kitchen, I'd prefer it if no one were home to walk in on us."

"Charlotte, no one is home. Mrs. Hudson won't bother us the rest of the night."

"Well then out of respect for John."

"Who isn't here, so I say screw John." I pulled away to look at him, giving him a stern look. He rolled his eyes, "Fine."

"Thank you," I giggled as he lifted me off the counter to carry me back to his room.

"You are truly infuriating."

"Wait until you get to know me," I laughed as he dumped me onto his bed and removed his own shirt before laying down on top of me, propping himself up, his arms on either side of my head.

"I don't have to wait, I know you well enough already," he said leaning down to press his lips to lightly to mine, kissing me sweetly as he ran a hand down my side. I could feel my body relaxing with every touch.


	20. Chapter 20

I jolted awake, my heart racing and short of breath. I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest as I tried to catch my breath. I ran my other hand through my hair, a feeling of dread spreading in my gut.

"Charlotte?" I jumped a little at his voice in the dark next to me. I felt him reach a hand up to grasp my arm gently and pull me back to lay down next to him. "Another nightmare?"

I nodded, "Something bad is going to happen."

"Don't be silly," he said kissing my head. "Nothing's going to happen."

"Sherlock, I have this feeling in my gut things are going to get bad."

"It's just a feeling," he said rubbing my back. "But if I must, I'll protect you. No one's going to hurt you."

"It's not me I'm worried about," I said looking up at him. "I'm worried about you."

"I can assure you, I am in one piece."

"I know," I sighed. "I just feel like I'm going to wake up and something bad is going to have happened."

"Then we'll deal with it when it happens."

"There's that 'we' business again," I chuckled trying to lighten my mood.

"Well I'm not about to let you on your own," he smirked. "You'd get into too much trouble."

"Thank you," I said grabbing his hand and squeezing it. "I don't know what I would have done if you haven't been around to hold me and help me through it."

"Like I said, you'd probably get yourself into trouble." I smacked him gently. "You're welcome."

I reached up to kiss him. He wrapped his arms around me pulling m closer, before pulling me to lay on top of him.

I laid awake on my side, Sherlock's arm wrapped around my waist and his face buried into my shoulder as he lay behind me. He had fallen asleep shortly after our second romp of the night and was now sleeping peacefully aside of me. I was a bit jealous seeing as I couldn't fall back asleep for the life of me. My phone started vibrating on the night stand next to the bed. I reached over and grabbed it seeing it was my landlady.

I hit the answer button forgetting that it was close to midnight, "Hello?"

"Oh Miss Brennan, I'm really terribly sorry about the late hour," she stammered hurriedly into the phone.

"It's ok, I was kind of awake anyway," I replied, trying to talk quietly so I wouldn't wake Sherlock.

"You're not at home at the flat I take it? I know the pub's closed at the moment so I wasn't sure where you were at."

"No, I'm at a friend's. Why?"

"Oh good," she let out a breath of relief.

"Why, what happened?" I asked again.

"The whole half of our block was set on fire. My building and the one next to it. No one was hurt, but I didn't see you standing outside so I was worried you might have been inside."

"No, I'm safe," I replied. "Do you need me to come there?"

"No dear. Stay where ever it is you are. There's not really anything going on except them putting the fire out. The police are taking statements. I just wanted to check on you."

"Thanks for calling Mrs. Allen." She disconnect as my text alert went off. It was from Mary asking if I was still awake yet.

"What's going on?" Sherlock asked startling me. I hadn't even noticed he had woken up.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I apologized rolling onto my back as I responded to Mary. "Um, landlady called, the building my flat was in and the one next to it caught fire."

I felt him freeze up next to me and a second later throw off the part of the sheet that was covering him and jump out of bed, pulling a pair of his slacks on.

"Sherlock?" I asked confused. To top off my confusion, my phone started ringing. I looked at the ID to see it was a number not saved to my mobile. "Hello?"

"Charlotte, is Sherlock awake? He said to call your number if I needed him. Sorry if I woke you." It sounded like Lestrade.

"Um yea, no problem," I said sitting up and holding my mobile out to Sherlock who was grabbing a shirt out of his closet. "Sherlock, it's Lestrade."

He swore before grabbing my mobile from me, "I already know about Charlotte's flat." I tried to make out his facial expressions in the dark when I saw him reach down and pick up one of my shirts from the floor by my stuff and tossing it to me. "Where?" Pants were next to be thrown at me. "Charlotte, where does Mary live?"

"Umm…"

"Sherlock!" we heard who sounded like John yell. I hurriedly pulled my shirt on over my head as Sherlock ran out of the room talking hurriedly on the phone to Lestrade. Once I was dressed, I went to walk out into the hallway as he then came crashing back into me, now off the phone and heading into his room again. I heard voices out in the living room so I just walked out there rather than get in his way. John was standing next to Mary who was in almost hysterics.

"Mary?"

"Oh Charlie," she squeaked reaching for me as I walked up to her. She latched on to me and started crying. I gave John a confused look.

"We were on our way back to her flat when the building across the street exploded," John explained.

"You're kidding," I said staring at John in shock.

"Wish I was," John shrugged as Sherlock came back out. "Mary's a bit shook up."

"Charlotte, make her tea and stay here," Sherlock ordered as he reached for his jacket and scarf from the back of the door.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"John and I are going to meet up with Lestrade," he said tying his scarf. "Stay here. Do not go anywhere until we came back."

"Sher-"

"Please, Charlotte, just do what I'm telling you," he snapped. I bit the inside of my lip and kept quiet. "John, let's go."

"Yea," he said. Mary let go of me long enough for her to say good-bye to John. Sherlock was already out the door and running down the steps.

"Be careful," Mary said to him.

"Don't let him do anything dumb," I said as John turned to follow.

"I'll do my best, but you know Sherlock," John said. "Don't worry. Be back before you know it."

We watched John leave before I turned to Mary, "How about that tea?"

"Yea, sure," Mary said nodding her head. She sat at the kitchen table while I got the water boiling. "So you and Sherlock were awake already?"

"Yea. My landlady called and woke me up."

"Yea, ok," she laughed.

I rolled my eyes, "If you must know, that was earlier after John left and I did the dishes. My apartment building and the building next to it caught fire."

"Seriously?" I nodded. "Why do I have a bad feeling about this…?"

"I know," I sighed pulling out the tea pot and cups. "I think that's why Sherlock rushed out of here."

"He thinks it's connected?"

"He knows if anything," I sighed. "I told him I had a feeling something bad was going to happen."

"You don't think it's that guy he's after do you?" I didn't answer. That was exactly what I thought. "Crap…what are we going to do? Why is he coming after us?"

"Sit and wait here like Sherlock said," I shrugged. "And because of Sherlock. He's going after anyone associated with him and your dating his best friend."

"Why can't we find normal guys?"

I smiled, "Your guess is as good as mine." I heard loud knocking downstairs at the door. "I wonder who that is…"

I walked down to answer the door, Mary finishing getting the tea ready. I opened the door to see a police officer standing there.

"Miss Brennan?" he asked politely.

"Yea," I replied not opening the door fully.

"The Yard sent me over to keep an eye on you," he said. "May I?"

"Uh yea, sure," I said letting him in. He followed me up the stairs and stood quietly in the hallway landing as Mary and I sipped our tea. I had offered him some, but he declined. I got up to go to the bathroom and when I came back, Mary wasn't at the table anymore. I walked out to the living room an didn't see any sign of her there either. I looked to the officer who was examining a spot on the wall.

"Did you see where Mary went?" I asked, the bad feeling creeping back into my stomach.

"She said something about going to bed," he answered. I narrowed my eyes at him, knowing Mary would have waited for me to come back out. "Also, they're sending a car over for you. They would like you down at the station."

"Who would?"

"Mr. Holmes."

"That's strange," I said narrowing my eyes at him, "Because he told me not to leave the flat for any reason."

"Plans change Miss Brennan."

"Not without him calling to try and order me around, which trust me on this, he tries and takes full advantage of it," I answered taking a wary step back into the living room. "So I think I'll decline and actually just keep listening to his original request until I hear _him_ tell me otherwise."

"That wouldn't be wise Miss Brennan."

"What would be wise is if you could leave," I said wishing I had shoes on instead of being barefoot. "Now."

"Not without you," he said lunging forward. I ducked under his arms and brought my knee up into his side before punching him in the side of the face. I kicked him in the back of the knee causing him to fall forward and clasped my hands together to bring them down hard on the back of his head.

"I'm a pub owner you arse! You don't think I know how to defend myself!?" I yelled at him. An arm wrapped itself around me from behind and a cloth was placed over my mouth and nose. I had enough time to curse myself before passing out.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: My apologies for the delay in posting...things were going on and between the book series I'm reading and video games, I got a bit distracted, oops! so my sincerest apologies. on another note, slightly shorter chapter with a POV change. enjoy :)

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I woke up feeling incredibly stupid and extremely fuzzy from being drugged. There was a cloth tied around my mouth and I found my hands and feet also tied together. I pushed myself up into a sitting position with difficulty as my hands were tied behind my back. As my eyes adjusted, I saw Mary sitting across from me. She was awake and had a terrified look on her face. I looked around to see we were in a large utility closet sized room with no lights. I shimmied over to Mary, trying to spit out the cloth tied around my mouth. It was useless, they had tied it too tight.

Mary and I both jumped, trying to grab on to each other as gun fire and loud noises from the other side of the door and outside started. Moments later, the door was thrown open and we blinked into the light as a tall form stood over us. I felt my eyes tear up in relief as Sherlock bent and cut Mary's ties free before doing mine.

"I told you not to leave the flat," he said as I launched my arms around his neck.

"You know how frustrating I like to be," I managed to choke out. "You said yourself I find trouble when you're not around." He kissed me quickly pulling me up onto my feet.

"Where's John?" Mary asked as he helped her up next.

"Helping Lestrade make a distraction," he said poking his head out the door. "You girls have to run when I tell you. Keep close and don't stop." I went to say something, but he cut me off. "Later. I'll tell you later."

"Ok," I said as he took my hand and held tightly. We heard gun fire again.

"Run."

Sherlock led us towards the left where there was another door. He opened it and ushered us into the hallway. He instructed us to go down the stairs at the end of the hallway and go out the door at the bottom which would open into the alley behind the building. As he was letting us catch our breath, a figure appeared at the end of the alley, our only way out seeing as the other end was a dead end. Sherlock stepped protectively in front of Mary and I as we stood frozen behind him.

"I didn't think you'd track us down this fast," the man at the end of the alley spoke. "Jim always said not to underestimate you. He always had the highest regards to you up until the end."

"Let the women go," Sherlock growled. "This is between the two of us, no one else."

"No, no, I disagree. They're just as involved no thanks to you." Mary was shaking next to me. She never actually threw herself into the pub fights, only stood out of the way while it was handled. "I think it's time we chat, don't you?"

"I would be more than happy to talk with you, after you let Miss Brennan and Miss Morstan go," Sherlock replied. I had to give it to him, he sounded calmer than I know I felt.

"And I told you no. I would rather like to keep them exactly where they are."

"You think you can use them to control me," Sherlock drawled. "Not going to work."

"I beg to differ. You step one foot out of line right now and the love of your life gets it." Sherlock was silent as Mary clutched my arm. "I have snipers stationed nearby. Don't think I won't snap my fingers and let them fire."

"Correction," Sherlock responded. "You have one sniper. The other is currently busy with my blogger." I looked around, scanning the rooftops and didn't see anything. "What do you want Moran?"

"Besides your head on a silver platter?" Moran asked. Sherlock was quiet. "Revenge for Jim and for you to leave the web he created alone. You've caused enough problems. You need to stop."

"What if I don't?"

"Then I start picking off the ones you care about."

"They're not involved in this and you can't get me through them."

"Maybe once, but not anymore," Moran said raising a handgun to point at us. Mary tightened her grip on my arm as I looked up at Sherlock, my nightmare unraveling before my eyes.

The next few moments happened extremely fast. There were a total of three shots. As soon as I heard the first, I shoved Sherlock towards the side of the alley as the second and third went off. Mary screamed as I saw the ground come rushing up to meet me and a massive amount of pain pierce my shoulder. There was more yelling and I felt myself being rolled over onto my back and pressure on my left shoulder. A searing pain shot through me and my vision swam in and out.

"John!" I heard Sherlock yell as the pain continued in my shoulder, the pressure increasing. "Dammit Charlotte, you just couldn't stand there could you?"

"Sorry," I managed to squeak out as I heard footsteps echoing off the alley walls. Mary gasped in relief so the part of my brain not concentrating on the pain assumed it was John.

"Oh God, what happened?" John asked as I saw him bend down over me.

"She shoved me out of the way. Stupid, stupid, stupid," he said applying more pressure to my shoulder causing me to squeal in pain as my vision started blacking out.

*Mary's POV*

I stood watching them kneel over my best friend, frozen to the spot still. I had seen bar fights, but never experienced anything like this.

"Mary take my phone and call Lestrade," John said holding it out for me. I took it, my hands shaking and scrolled through his contacts. "Sherlock, you need to move, let me see what I'm working with."

"She's bleeding John!"

"I know that!" John snapped back as I waited for Lestrade to pick up on the other line. "I was in the war, I dealt with gunshot wounds. Step back."

"John-"

"Sherlock, now. So far all you've done is apply enough pressure to make her pass out. Step back."

I watched as his tall form moved reluctantly away. I caught the look on his face and could see he the extent to which he was worried. Knowing a few things about him thanks to John, it shocked me greatly. Almost more than my best friend laying on the ground bleeding.

"John," a voice said in the other line. "What's going on?"

"No, it's Mary," I stammered. Sherlock pushed off the ground and jumped up, grabbing the phone out of my hand.

"Lestrade, ambulance now. Charlotte's been shot," he said hurriedly into the phone, his voice shaking slightly as he started pacing down the alley. I knelt down next to John as he lifted off the fabric resembling Sherlock's scarf off of Charlie's shoulder.

"How's it look?" I asked quietly trying to sound calmer than I felt as my best friend lay unconscious in a pool of her own blood.

"Clean shot, straight through, doesn't seem to have hit any vital spots or bone, just the muscle," John mumbled back. He looked up to meet my gaze, "She'll be fine once she gets to surgery and they can see the extent of damage from there, like which veins, nerves and ligaments it. But right now, the only concern right now is blood loss. I'm more worried about the other one."

Sherlock came back over and knelt down across from us, "Why aren't you doing anything?"

"Sherlock," John said trying to be patient with him, "I can't do anything other than what I'm already doing. I don't have my bag."

"Then what use are you?" Sherlock snarled. John looked at me and nodded down to wear he was holding the scarf up against Charlie's shoulder. With shaky hands I replaced his as he got up and pulled Sherlock up, shoving him against the wall.

"You need to calm down. Does Lestrade have the ambulance on its way?"

"Yes, but-"

"Sherlock listen to me for once in your life, she'll be ok. I've seen much worse," John said. "You're the most sensible person I know, do not fall apart on me."

"You're sure?" Sherlock asked quietly. "I can't lose her John, I love her."

My head snapped up at that as John and I both stared at him. We heard the ambulance coming as John and I stared at him.

"John!" we heard a voice yell from the end of the alley. I turned and saw their DI friend and John take another look at Sherlock before running to meet up with him. Sherlock knelt down next to me.

"John!" Sherlock yelled, "She's not breathing dammit!"


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: Had a bit of a dilemma deciding if i wanted to post the whole thing or break it up...decided to break it up, so another shorter chap and one more left. No worries, I have a ton more written for the story line, but i felt like a bajillion chapters being posted would just be a lot. so there will most likely be a sequel seeing as there's a question of whether moran is still around or not. Hope you all have enjoyed thus far :)

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*Charlie's POV*

_"Char-Char, time to wake up," my sister said to me as she sat next to me. We were back at the home I grew up in, sitting on the balcony outside watching the hill._

_"Five more minutes Camille," I groaned._

_"Char-Char, you've been asleep long enough, there are people waiting for you," she said._

_"I miss you Camille."_

_"I know," she said giving me a sad smile. "It's ok. Mum and dad say hi." I gave her a small smile. "It's time to wake up though. You have someone who loves you waiting for you. Wake up."_

A steady beeping reached my ear. My eyes flickered open and I found myself staring up at a brightly lit ceiling. I also found myself with a tube down my throat. I looked around and saw Mary sitting in the chair across from me. I tried to move my hand to wave at her but just managed a flop. It was enough. She looked up and smiled.

"Well hello sleepy-head," she said smiling at me. "Hold on, John just left."

She walked to the door of my hospital room and stuck her head out. A few seconds later John followed her back in. He smiled at me, "Hello. Give me a second and I'll get that tube out. We were waiting until you woke up to remove it."

"You were out for a few days," Mary explained. John silenced her with a look before telling me to take a breath and let it out. I started coughing once the tube was out and he handed me a glass of water before grabbing a chart and looking over it.

"Can you talk?" John asked.

"Maybe?" I croaked, coughing again.

"Ok. I'm just going to run vitals. Do you remember anything?"

"Um kidnap, rescue, Moran, passing out. What happened?"

"You got yourself shot," Mary said glaring at me. "John helped patch you up."

"It helped it was a clean shot," John replied. "You'll have to wear an arm sling for a while until your shoulder heals. No heavy lifting. No rough movement. They had to fix a ligament that got hit. You'll live."

"Moran?"

"Got away I guess. We were a little more worried about you. You were out about three days thanks to complications from the anesthetic which never made your charts," John said.

"Ok," was all I could say.

"I'll be right back. I'm going to the pharmacy to start your pain meds," John said patting my leg and smiling at Mary before I left. I looked around the small room before raising an eyebrow at Mary. She knew the look and after huffing at me sat down on my good side, taking my hand.

"Mycroft, or whatever his name is, had someone watching their flat and alerted him when that fake cop showed up. He checked it out and Lestrade never sent anyone over. Of course, instead of intervening then, he let us get kidnapped, but tailed the kidnapper. Sherlock was not happy at all to hear any of that by the way. I thought he was going to blow a gasket."

"Where-"

"Anyway," she said cutting me off. "They locked us in an abandoned building in a storage closet. We were there a few hours before Sherlock tracked us down. They had this whole elaborate plan to get in and get out, which only hitched up after that Moran guy showed up. Someone shot at John who was coming that way around and saw Moran and then John and him both fired at the same time. John's not sure if he hit him. You shoved Sherlock out of the way and got hit with the bullet instead. You got freaking shot, Charlie."

"Yea, I know," I sighed, my throat raw from being tubed.

"You scared the bloody hell out of me, Charlie."

"Sorry."

"Promise not to do it again?"

"Wasn't planning it the first time." She laughed. "How pissed is he?"

"The only one he's not furious with is Mary," John said catching the tail end of the question as he walked back in the room. "They'll have pain killers for you shortly."

"Ok. Why's he mad at you?"

"Because I punched him," John answered with a satisfied smirk. I gave him a confused look. "He's mad at you for several things, Lestrade for not getting there sooner, Mycroft for not stopping them before they took you girls from the flat, the EMTs for being 'dim-witted', me again for not being able to perform surgery in a dark alley, the doctors for being inferior, me again for not actually working here. Mycroft redeemed himself by pulling strings and letting the doctors here allow me on as a guest physician. You can only imagine the things that were spewing from his mouth though. The only one not facing his wrath is Mary."

"Personally, I feel a bit left out," she chuckled.

"Where?" I asked before a coughing fit started. John handed me a glass of water.

John sighed, "Off working cases I suspect. Haven't seen him since you were out of surgery. The nurses say he's been coming in after we've all left. They tried to kick him out but I guess he sent one of the home in tears so they've just let him go."

"Knock, knock." We looked towards the door to see Molly standing there in her lab coat. "Oh good, she's awake. How are you feeling Charlie?"

"Like I got shot," I replied making her laugh.

"Molly and I are going to lunch," Mary said. "She's been coming up on her breaks. I know you just woke up, but is that ok?"

"Yea, fine," I nodded. "I'll see you in a bit." She gave John a kiss and followed Molly from the room.

"How are you really?" John asked sitting down in the chair next to the bed.

I tried to shrug, but winced in pain, "Ok got to remember not to do that for a while."

"Probably a good idea," he agreed. "George will be in later. He's been stopping by for a little since you've been in."

"Ok."

We sat there in silence for a few minutes until the nurse brought my painkillers John had ordered and left after I took them. John pinched the bridge of his nose before leaning forward to look at me.

"You have to know, you scared the piss out of him," John said quietly. I watched him. "I've never seen him lose it like he did in that alley."

"I'm sorry," I apologized not knowing what else to say.

"It's-I'm just telling you so you know," John shook his head, a worried look on his face. "I don't know how he's been, I haven't seen him. I know the flat is a mess, papers are everywhere. Molly said he's been driving her nuts down in the lab when he's there, but when she asks about you, he clams up. George said he was over helping at the pub for a bit, but doesn't say much. He'll talk to the kid that works for you, but only when he's spoken to George says. I honestly don't know what's going through his head. Not that I normally do, mind you. I'm worried about him." I wasn't sure what to say. John shifted in the chair. I watched him as he stared at the blanket on my bed. "He, uh… he said something that kinda shocked Mary and I back in the alley. I don't know if he meant it or if that's what's been…I don't' know. And I don't want to tell you because I don't know if he's told you…"

"He loves me?" I finished for him. John looked up at me, a surprised look on his face. The corner of my mouth twitched, "I know. I caught him say it the other night. He thought I was asleep."

"Oh," John laughed nervously. "But he hasn't actually said it to you?"

"No," I yawned. "But I really don't expect him too."

"Yea," John chuckled, nodding his head. "Well, get some sleep. If it's alright, I'm going to watch TV."

"Yea, fine," I replied as he turned it on and sat back in the chair. I fell asleep a few minutes later.


	23. Chapter 23

I woke up periodically the rest of the day, mostly when I had visitors. George had brought Billy with when he came to visit, who then insisted I needed balloons which he then fetched from the gift shop. George updated me on the happenings with the pub. He was pleased to inform me that as long as the inspector found no issues, we should be back up by the end of the month. I was also glad to hear I'd be going home the next day. I wasn't sure where I was going home to, but John and Mary insisted I was going back to 221B Baker St.

The sound of the TV woke me up later that night. I opened my eyes and saw the now very familiar curly haired tall figure sitting in the chair with his feet propped up on my bed. I smiled to myself as I watched him, unaware I was awake.

"I thought you didn't like watching telly," I said quietly. He flicked the TV off and sat still in the chair, not turning to look at me. I waited nervously for him to say something, but after a few minutes of silence I realized I'd have to break it. "I take it you're a bit mad at me."

At that, he snorted, "A 'bit' is an understatement."

"Would saying I'm sorry help any?" I asked as my shoulder throbbed.

"I haven't decided yet," he said quietly still not looking at me. I tried to adjust myself on the bed, but hissed in pain from jostling my shoulder. He finally turned to look at me though. I saw he had a split lip and a bruise healing on his cheek. "How's your shoulder?"

"Hurts like hell," I muttered. "How's your face?" He glared at me. "Already heard the story. John told me."

"Figures," he said rolling his eyes. "I'll get the nurse to bring in pain meds."

"No wait," I said as he went to get up. He ignored me and walked out of the room. It only took him a few seconds to return and when he did, he didn't sit down. He paced in front of me at the end of my bed. I watched him. "Can you just yell at me already? I don't like it when you don't talk."

He ran his hands through his hair and took a breath before letting it out and looking at me. He seemed like he had a hundred going through his head. The nurse came in, handing me my pills and left, closing the door behind her after a nervous glance at Sherlock.

"Promise me one thing," he finally said.

"Ok."

"You will never put yourself in harm's way again." I went to say something, but he cut me off. "Ever. I don't care who it's for. If I ever see you laying on the ground like that again I…" he trailed off and started pacing again, not finishing his sentence. I watched him, almost seeing what John had been talking about.

"Sherlock, I'm ok," I said not knowing what else to say to him.

"But you weren't," he snapped. "I almost lost you, Charlotte. You stopped breathing!" I watched him run his hand through his hair again, unsure what to say next. "First off, you don't listen to me when I tell you to stay in the flat-"

"Hold up," I said cutting him off. "I was listening to you. I beat the crap out of the guy that was trying to get me to leave in the first place. And before you start on the fact I pushed you out of the way and got shot, it was because of the fact I saw my nightmare happening before my eyes. I could not see the man I love die like he did in my dream. I knew what I was doing."

"So you'd rather be the one almost dead while I stood over you not knowing how to deal with these damn emotions going through my head?" he snarled. "I don't know how to process these things, Charlotte. You're the first woman I have ever openly cared for and I almost lost you and I don't know how to deal with this."

"Sherlock, come here," I said, ignoring the pain and moving over so he could sit on the bed. He stood there looking at me. "Now." He moved slowly to sit down next to me, grasping my good hand and holding it up to press his lips to the back of it. "See, I'm alive and ok now. I'm sorry. I just couldn't watch my dream happen. I told you, I couldn't stand to lose one more thing in my life."

He let out a sigh and then turned to give me a curious look, "Did you say you love me?"

I rolled my eyes, "Not those exact words, but yes I do love you. Stupid as it seems." He leaned down to kiss me and rest his forehead on mine. "Don't ask me why, I'm still trying to figure it out myself. Maybe they should examine my head while I'm in here."

"Charlotte," he growled.

"Hm?"

"Shut up."

I smiled, "Of course, these pain meds may be making me a bit delusional as well." He growled again and kissed me. "Course it also could be something in the water here. Maybe they should get it checked. I'd hate for others to become infested."

"I swear," Sherlock said after kissing me again. "If you do not shut up-"

"You'll get chapped lips?" I giggled. He cracked a smile at the one and sat up shaking his head at me.

"I may have a word with John about the dosage you're on," he grumbled. "I don't know if I'll be able to deal with you."

"Better do it soon, they're sending me home tomorrow."

"I know, I saw on your chart," he said. "Are you…"

"Yes," I nodded. "John insists."

He gave me a shocked look, "Your leaving? Where are you going to stay?"

"Oh no," I said, my fuzzy head finally realizing what he thought I meant. "No I'm not leaving. John's insisting I come live with you both…unless you don't want me to."

"Why wouldn't I want you?" Sherlock asked giving me a confused look.

"Honestly, I'm still confused why you do," I giggled. "God, these pills are worse than alcohol with the whole giggling thing."

Sherlock chuckled at me as he moved to lay next to me on my hospital bed, being careful of my shoulder as he wrapped an arm behind my head, "Definitely going to talk to John about the dosage. How's your shoulder feel?"

"Meh."

"What's that?" he chuckled. "I don't know that feeling."

"I don't really know, just sounds good," I mumbled sleepily as I grabbed Sherlock's other hand. I let out a content sigh and closed my eyes.

I felt Sherlock lean down and kiss my head," I love you."

I smiled and squeezed his hand, "I know." He tensed a bit at being caught. "You need to make sure I'm actually asleep before you starting saying things like that."

"I'll take note of that," he chuckled as I fell asleep in his arms dreaming of the next chapter of my life I was about to embark on.

To be continued...

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A/N: Hope you all have enjoyed. I do plan on posting a sequel, just have to think of an interesting enough title that makes sense in my crazy head. Thanks for reading!


	24. Coming Soon

A/N: Hello everyone! Sorry it took so long, but I was trying to think of a good title for the next installment. It has been decided...finally. The next one shall be titled "The Case of the Domestics". Keep a look out, will probably post the first chapter tomorrow if I have time. :)


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